


Runner-Up

by CalicoThunder



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And just general angst, Blue Paladin Allura, LOTS OF LANGST, M/M, My take on it all, Post Season 2, Very dramatic and emotional, adjusting to life without shiro, and klangst, black paladin lance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-09-27 20:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10048430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalicoThunder/pseuds/CalicoThunder
Summary: It's been one month since the defeat of Zarkon.The five Lions have convened and chosen Lance as the new Black Paladin- but this decision causes rifts and wrinkles in the delicate emotional atmosphere of Team Voltron after Shiro's disappearance. With Universe in war-torn despair, Voltron is needed now more than ever- and the team will have to adjust to the new mode and (re)learn to work together.And all the while, they're searching for Shiro: Where is he? How can they find him? Will they like what they find?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyyy this is totally a spur of the moment thing, but I'm really passionate about black paladin Lance so here it is.  
> Allura and Keith are mean in this chapter.

“The Universe still needs us.”

The Black Lion remains unperturbed by this, sitting on their haunches with their back to the pride. 

“The Princess still needs us.” Blue continues, hoping her plea doesn't fall on deaf ears. “The Paladins need us more than ever. The enemy lives, and we must fight.” 

“Hush, Blue,” comes the strangled voice of Green, though her tail flickers silently in acknowledgement. “Perhaps we should give the Alpha time to grieve.” 

“You don't think mourning time has passed?” Yellow interjects, his mane shimmering full-circle around his neck. He is the most agitated as he paces up and down the plane, snarling at the stars and the coldness of the Alpha’s demeanor. 

“Perhaps, but that is not our decision.” Green responds, ever the thinker. 

“We aren't trying to make the Alpha do anything. But we cannot sit idly by while the Universe falls into chaos. They need us.” Blue says, eyes following Yellow’s gait. 

“And what,” comes the sudden, booming voice of the Black Lion, “do you suppose we do?” They remain in their frigid position, not even moving their tail. Their sleek, black coat of fur shimmers in the starlight. 

“You know my case.” Blue says, firmly, and Red, where she'd been curled up a few steps from the Alpha, lifts her head enough to bare her teeth at Blue. “We must shuffle our Paladins and have a replacement Paladin at one of our controls. We cannot leave ourselves, Voltron, unattended and crippled while the Universe cries out for help.” 

“Always the emotional one, aren't you Blue?” Black says. 

“More like dramatic, if you ask me.” Red whispers, but everyone hears it. 

“It's not just her,” Yellow stops moving to face the Red and Black Lions. “I agree too. We must do something. We must act.” 

“You only agree because you know your Paladin is safe.” Red spits, standing on all fours. She steps in front of the Alpha, as if to protect them. 

“Now who’s being dramatic?” Yellow says, and Red growls. 

“Everyone remain calm. Our energy must be saved for fighting evil. We’re on the same side.” Green says, body tense in the event of an altercation. 

“She is correct. We are on the same side, so we must do what’s right and switch-” 

“We will do no such thing.” The Black Lion booms, halting all other noise. “My Paladin is missing, and even I know not where he has gone. Voltron will not take a single step until he is found. Dead or alive.” 

“But, my Alpha, is it not perhaps more sensible-” 

“Sensible? Do not try me with any talk of ‘sensible’, cub. Nothing, not Zarkon’s hand on me, nor these Earthling Paladins’ appearance, nor the vanishing of my Paladin, has been sensible.” The irritation of the Black Lion was becoming more evident in the tightness of their shoulders. “Suppose your idea should work, Blue. How do you suppose we shift?” 

“I've said it before, Alpha, many times.” 

“I will not, under any circumstances, give my Paladin away.” Red is suddenly in the Blue Lion’s face, canines trembling with wary rage. 

“This childish possessiveness is surely unbelievable to the rest of you, yes? The fate of the Universe is at stake, yet Red is troubled by ceding her chew toy.” Yellow growls, and Red sets her livid gaze on him. 

“Again, how have you an opinion when your Paladin sits warmly in your seat? Altea forbid he should ever form the head.” 

“And yours should? Your Paladin has brought you closer to death than any before him. He is sooner a dead man than a leader.” 

Red pounces at the hulking Yellow Lion, but Green is quick to stand between them. “This petty brawling helps nothing. Blue, please continue your plea.” 

Blue sighs, but faces the Alpha’s back once more. “The Red Paladin, despite your Paladin’s wishes, will prove to be a most reckless and haphazard leader. He acts with his senses, not his mind, and his choices oft end in a painful plight of himself or others. He is unready, and as we've seen, unwilling to sit at your helm, my Alpha.” 

“On this, we agree.” Black states, still stoic. “The Red Paladin cannot sit at my helm, for I fear he would destroy us before we could accomplish much.” 

“On behalf of my Paladin, who is being so heavily berated, I adamantly deny these claims.” Red says. “Keith is not the kind of dangerous and deadly tool you make him out to be- he is passionate and powerful, strong and fierce-” 

“And Galra.” Yellow says, calmer now. He licks absently at his paw. “And we all know what occurred with our last Galra Black Paladin.” 

Red growls her dissent, but Blue speaks again. “The Princess has proven to be a firm and steady leader in the time of need. She is selfless and controlled, and shows the enemy no weakness. However, she is too important to place on the frontline of war; without her, Voltron and the Castle will surely be doomed. She must be kept onboard the ship, where she can still lead and fight, but keep herself safe.” 

“With this, I agree again. I would not have her at my helm either, for she is much too stubborn to comply with me and my tactics. But this leaves me curious, Blue cub, now that you’ve captured my interest. Who do you believe should take my helm?” 

The pride becomes silent in anticipation, for not even Yellow and Green have heard this section of the plan yet. Only Red remains terse and angry, already briefed in this information from a rare night of civility and conversation with Blue a few moons ago. 

“Lance, the Blue Paladin, must take Shiro’s place as the head of Voltron.” 

It's nearly laughable, how quiet the pride has become. Red has retreated to her spot by Black’s side again, curled up on the floor. The Yellow and Green Lions express their surprise through flickering tails. Then, the Black Lion rises and turns, yellow eyes looming over their pride like a watchdog. 

“This is a most unexpected answer.” Their voice carries over the stars, forcibly agitating the ears of the other Lions. 

“I'm aware, my Alpha, but we must take steps to-”

“What reasons have you to suggest your Paladin as mine? Of all the Earthlings, I least believe Lance and his persona could possibly cement the gap of Shiro’s absence.” Those yellow eyes narrow on the Blue Lion, and she bristles. 

“Lance is my Paladin for a reason. He is kind-hearted and emotionally understanding. His decisions are often sure and in benefit of his team. He is smart. He is capable. If he is dramatic, so be it- but the immaturity you speak of will surely be washed away when he sees that you, the Alpha, the Black Lion, have chosen him to lead.” 

“And you have not told him of this?” Green asks, careful of interrupting the proceedings. 

“No, nor must any of you tell your Paladins. When they all see the Alpha’s choice, they will rally behind it. Of this, I’m sure.” 

“Your faith is admirable, cub, and your evidence strong. But Lance cannot sit in my seat.”

“Why, my Alpha? If you don't think him ready, he will ready himself when you choose-” 

“The answer is no, Blue.” 

“What has he done wrong to prove himself unworthy? He needs only this push.” 

“What of you, Blue? Who is your new Paladin?” Yellow asks tentatively. 

“I believe we should see the advisor, Coran, in my seat, because of his similarities to Lance in so many ways. His knowledge is most valuable as well.” 

“Nonsense. He cannot tame a single one of us, despite his qualifications.” Green says, but she's loathe to argue against Blue. 

“I agree. Coran cannot pilot you.” Black says, and all is quiet again. “I will have no one in my seat until we find Shiro.” 

“But, my Alpha-” 

“No more objections, Blue!” Black roars suddenly, and the very plane on which they stand shakes, the stars rattle, and the sky cries tears of quivering terror. “I have made my choice, and it is my true Paladin!” 

And, in a rare display of sheer disobedience, the Blue Lion stands on her paws and roars back, startling the whole pride. “Everyone will die if we do not act! I beg of you, Black, let us shift the Paladins and rally Voltron once more! Let the Universe be safe, let the free peoples look up to us in glory and awe. Let Lance lead us to victory, and we will never once forget or abandon our search for Shiro. You must let Lance sit at your helm!” 

The Black Lion is absolutely furious, prepared to use their size and strength to subdue the insubordinate Blue right there- but the Red Lion interjects. 

“Blue, is your endeavour for the sake of Universe, or for the sake of your Paladin? I wonder if you and he act selflessly or selfishly; you must confuse the two sometimes.” 

“That's enough, Red.” Black growls, rage and hysteria carefully contained in their tone. “There is only one way you can sway me, Blue. We will negotiate, like civil, intelligent beings.” 

“Very well, my Alpha. You will find my willingness to compromise very high.” Blue says, sitting on her hind legs again. The tension is palpable. 

“I will let Lance lead me on two conditions. Firstly, for my sake- you must tell Lance of the switch when you next see him, and you must tell him that I demand he never give up the search for my Paladin even if he sits in my chair. If he even once deviates from this goal, I will quit him and Voltron will be headless.” 

“Easily done, my Alpha, even if it's not advisable. What be your other term?” 

“For the sake of the Universe- Allura will sit at your helm, at least for when Voltron himself is needed. She is too powerful a warrior to be left unused on the Castle, which you should understand if the fate of the Universe is so important to you.” 

“It is, my Alpha, and while I am skeptical of her in my seat, I will concede this to you because of my faith in you. In us.” 

“Very well.” Black says, and Red immediately growls her protest. 

“This is madness, having the Paladins hopping Lions like it's a mere game-” 

“Your Paladin is safe, I haven't any idea why you're complaining.” Yellow says snidely, and that shuts Red’s jaws. 

“Tomorrow, we shall gather the Paladins. I will, through actions and not words, allow Lance to sit at my helm. Voltron will continue to fight. We will search for my Shiro, my Paladin.” 

“This is all I ask of you, my Alpha, all I've dreamed of for moons now. Thank you.” 

“Thank your Paladin, Blue, should he agree to all this.” Black says. 

“Oh, I haven't a doubt that he will.” Blue answers, and the pride disperses. 

\--

“You want me to do what now?!” Lance squeaks, dropping the sponge from Blue’s leg and staring up at the Lion’s massive jaw. 

The Lion repeats herself, feeding the ideas of Lance in a Black Paladin suit, piloting the Alpha Lion and forming the head of Voltron. He sees the Black Lion opening up to him, and the rest of the team in awe of this. 

“Oh, god- you’re crazy. That’s crazy, that’s literally insane.” Lance says, incredulous. “Can you imagine me trying to lead anything? Me?” 

Blue emits reassurance in a wave, but Lance barrels on. “How could I replace Shiro, Blue? He’s strong and respected- Keith and Pidge would never listen to a word I say. Allura hates me, she’d never-” 

The Lion feeds an image of the Black Lion opening their jaws to him in acceptance, like Blue had done for Lance so long ago. 

“Black agreed to this?” Lance whispers, still in disbelief.  

Blue affirms. 

Lance slumps to the floor, where suds and water have pooled into little puddles in the wake of his abandoned cleaning. He bends his legs and throws his bare arms onto his knees, weary of staining his long sleeve shirt with oil and grime. “I can't lead, Blue. I'm not fit for that level of stress- I mean, I'm honored (and confused) that Black would choose me-” The Lion interrupts with images of the other Lions agreeing to the change as well, “-but fuck if I know the first thing about giving orders and being respected and all, Blue. You know me, I-” 

The Lion interrupts his rambling with a growl of more passionate reassurance; the emotion swells from the base of his skull and down into his heart. 

“You vouched for me. You really think I can do this.” Lance drawls, shocked nervousness settling in his gut. 

This isn't really my gig. 

“Why not Allura? She's much more fitting of-” 

Blue cuts him off again, explaining to him her compromise with Black and Allura’s replacement as the Blue Paladin. 

“Allura piloting you? That’s like, like- that’s like I’m switching places with her, like she’s being demoted or something. I’m not one to argue with you guys, but are you sure about this?” Lance hums, still looking into the yellow eyes of his Lion. 

Another affirmative. 

Lance hesitates for a long moment before shaking his head slowly. “I don't really know, Blue, I think it’s a bad idea. I need some time to-” 

“Attention Paladins, the Black Lion has called a meeting in their hangar. Please rally there immediately.” Allura’s voice filters through the Castle’s communications system in the middle of Lance’s word, and he sighs in minor frustration. 

“Shit. This is about this, huh?” He asks, gesturing between himself and the Blue Lion. She remains silent. 

He snatches up his jacket with a huff on his way towards the door, wary of the tools and cleaning supplies scattered about the floor of the hangar that he'll have to clean up later. 

 

He's the last to make it to the Black Lion’s hangar. Allura and Coran stand in front of the Lion’s left paw, conversing lowly. Pidge sits on Hunk’s shoulders, apparently resuming her interrupted nap. Hunk has the wrinkles of sleep strewn over his clothes, but Lance knows his friend well enough to see the stressed tension that lies beneath. 

Only Keith looks alert and well-kept, which is strange because he’s definitely the most unstable and unpredictable entity on the ship at present. 

It’s been one month since the defeat of Zarkon.

Upon the discovery of Black’s empty cockpit, the Universe delved into chaos. The Galra Empire, now leaderless and lost, has became a dangerous power vacuum composed of hundreds of ex-commanders who have taken it upon themselves to succeed Zarkon as emperor. The result has become civil war and infraction across almost all of the known Universe, and most non-Galra civilizations, whether previously under Imperial control or not, have begun to suffer the consequences of being trapped in the crossfire. Because of this, Voltron is, in a rather anti-climactic twist in Lance’s opinion, needed now more than ever. 

But Voltron is in chaos too. 

Shiro’s absence has taken a heavy emotional toll on Lance and the team. Allura met the situation with a fury and uncertainty that Lance suspects too intense for the merely professional relationship she and the Black Paladin had had. She's become taut and strict, almost never smiling, and only speaks to others if circumstance absolutely demands it. She refuses to eat sometimes, instead focusing on finding Shiro by way of quintessence- that is, through hours of exhausting, Universe-spanning searches on the bridge that often leave her on the brink of collapse. 

Pidge has also become a workaholic, and a dangerous one at that. She's testy and snappish, only ever leaving her workspace in the Green Lion’s hangar for food or rest. She's trying to find Shiro too, Lance knows, but she's searching using more technologically sound means like universal camera feeds, Galra data, and digital paper trails that may lead to Shiro’s location. She’s the most anti-social of them all now; her last full conversation was three days ago with Hunk, and it was about a broken food goo nozzle. 

The Yellow Paladin has seen better days. He works hard on little tinkering projects to keep him occupied, and like Lance, he wasn't quite as close with Shiro as the others were. He's still stricken by the loss, though, and meets many of Pidge and Allura’s wild attempts at finding the Black Paladin with optimism and an increasingly dull smile. He's a star, Hunk is, but he's fading, and he can't keep it all up for long. 

Lance knows the feeling. 

In Shiro’s absence he's taken it upon himself to try and keep the team optimistic and happy, but his attempts only reach so far. His jokes fall flat these days, his jovial smiles light no eyes but his own, and his happy-go-lucky attitude has become, as Keith so lovingly called it, more of a happy-go-fuck-yourself vibe. He’s also switched into big brother mode, like Hunk, trying to support everyone as best he can. When Pidge skips a meal, Lance takes a plate to her room. When Allura collapses on the bridge, Lance carries her to her bed (with her and Coran’s permission, of course). And when Keith overworks himself within an inch of death on the training room floor, Lance barges in with a chirpy “end training sequence” and practically force-feeds the Red Paladin water and food goo, and nags him until he trots off to bed. 

Where Keith then sits for hours, never ever sleeping. 

Lance knows because he hears the muffled sobs sometimes, or the terrified scream of a dying nightmare, or the quickened breath of an oncoming panic attack that he has to listen to through the wall. Keith’s health, both physically and mentally, has deteriorated to nothing more than a statistic on a holographic screen at this point. The insomnia is just the beginning, but Lance has never tried to help Keith because he's too afraid of what he'll say. What either of them will say. Keith is a fireball nowadays; he’s barely spoken a word to any of them in all this time. He's all anger and fear and the desperate sink of his sword into the heart of a gladiator, never once thanking Lance or anyone for the preservation of his faculties. 

It's all very unsettling. 

So yes, it is odd to see Keith looking a little better as they all stand in waiting in front of the towering Black Lion. Lance hopes he doesn't look too nervous or suspicious, though he doubts the others would even notice. 

The gigantic, golden eyes of the mecha-beast suddenly explode into light, and the Lion stands on all fours, as if ready to pounce. 

“It seems it's about to explain itself.” Coran notifies the rest of them, and not a moment later does the lucid image of Lance, dressed in black, sitting at the helm of the Black Lion and barking orders at the team suddenly invade the space between everyone’s minds. Another image shows Allura in Blue’s cockpit as well, for clarity, and then the familiar scene of all five Lions forming Voltron once more, to restore peace to the Universe. 

And the second the images evaporate, Black goes dormant and the Paladins erupt into mayhem.

Pidge starts awake, sliding off Hunk’s back and voicing her surprise. “Whoa, what? Lance as the Black Paladin?” 

“This must be a mistake, surely the Lions are emotional and in bad-” Allura says, stopping herself when Black growls in warning. 

“Incredible. I certainly didn't expect this.” Coran says, twirling the end of his mustache between his fingers and staring at Lance warmly. 

Hunk shares a similar look, for some reason, a teeny tiny smile on his face as he looks between the Lion and his friend. He whistles. “Wow, Lance, that's quite the letter of recommendation.” 

“Stay calm, everyone,” Allura says. She's yet to look at Lance. “I'm sure there's something we're not getting.” 

Lance bites his lip. 

“Oh there's something off, alright.” Keith speaks up, stomping towards the Lion. “Whatever the hell you're thinking, you're wrong. Shiro said I was gonna be the Black Paladin if something happened, so here I am.” He knocks on the Lion’s paw once, and nothing happens. It's the most expression Lance has seen from the Red Paladin in days. 

“Listen guys, I'm pretty sketchy on the details too, okay? It's just what they talked about.” Lance says, ignoring the vague pangs of hurt in his gut in favor of gathering everyone’s attention. Keith and Allura look particularly skeptical. 

“You knew about this decision?” Allura asks firmly. 

“Not exactly. Blue told me about it five minutes before Black called us in here. She said that the Lions have chosen me to be the Black Paladin, and Allura will pilot Blue.” Everyone looks shocked to say the least, but another small growl from Black has him continuing. “Oh, uh, right… Blue also said that we're only doing this for now so we can form Voltron, because the Universe needs us, and we'll be looking for Shiro the whole time. If I forget that, Black will reject me.” 

“Any other bits of the story you'd care to share?” Keith asks, and Lance can see the same rage with which Keith destroys the gladiator boiling behind his eyes. 

“No. I'm not exactly sure of all this either.” 

“It's certainly a surprise, I mean, I figured it'd be Keith eventually.” Pidge says through a yawn, but she's clearly more alert and interested in the proceedings even as she leans into Hunk for support. 

“Yeah, but I mean, and this is an unpopular opinion here- I think Lance can do it.” Hunk adds his two tentative cents, gesturing to Black. 

“Really, Hunk, I admire your faith. But I cannot possibly imagine Lance in the pilot seat of the Black Lion.” Allura says, stern as ever. 

“Yeah well, neither can I, Princess. I'm just as surprised as you all are, and stop talking about me like I'm not in the room-” 

Keith kicks the Lion again. “Hey! Open up. Tell us why you chose him of all people to lead? Why not me? Or Allura?” 

Everyone cringes at the nasty, insubordinate tone Keith takes, but Allura still seems curious of the answer.

The Black Lion answers by shifting their paw back a few feet and feeding a few images of Keith in the Black Lion, being reckless and dangerous, and Allura in the Black Lion, getting hurt or killed, along with a clear message of how little the five Lions wish for either to happen. 

“Perhaps,” Coran says, “we should respect the wishes of the Lions. We must trust that they know what’s best for themselves and the Universe, especially if they've managed to decide unanimously.” 

“I'm with Coran, here. It's been a long month, and this is the first news we've gotten in awhile- why don't we all sleep on it, and we'll come back tomorrow with a fresh take on things.” Hunk says.

“I'm not going anywhere until I get more answers.” Keith spits, and Allura nods gruffly.

“I agree, I want the Lions to explain themselves to me before I go off and fly Blue through a wormhole.”

Both she and Keith approach the Lion, and in response it growls low again, refusing to budge. 

“Hey, y’know, I didn't want any of this either. But these are Lions of Voltron, okay, and if they decide something-” Lance starts, but Keith cuts him off again. 

“Shut up, Lance. You're just saying that because they chose you to be Black Paladin.” 

It's quiet in the hangar. That's the kind of remark, Lance knows, that would normally receive a reprimand from Shiro, and if not him, then Allura. But Shiro is gone and Allura still hasn't acknowledged the Blue Paladin’s presence at all. 

“Princess, please. Let's all rest, and then we can move forward in the morning.” Coran says. 

It's tense for a moment, Allura and Keith still turned towards the mighty Black Lion; then she sighs with exasperation. “Very well.” She pivots and approaches Lance. 

“We will discuss this more tomorrow.” She fixes the Blue Paladin with a steady, flaming glare, and then slips past him towards the door. 

“Don't get comfortable, Lance.” Keith warns as he follows- and since when did those two end up on the same side?

Pidge leaves without a word, and Hunk merely smiles at Lance on his way out. Lance gives a weary one back, thankful for his friend’s everlasting support. 

Coran leaves last, giving Lance a nod of solidarity- one for which the Blue Paladin is more than grateful. He smiles at the advisor, too, and then it's just him and the Black Lion. 

He steps closer to it, placing his open palm on the very base of the Lion’s left leg. 

“Listen, top cat. I don't know how Blue convinced you to do all this, but it sounds pretty crazy to me. I'm lazy and irresponsible, I'm a laughingstock to my team, and they hold zero respect for me. I'm not even going for pity here, I'm just stating the facts. I respect you too much to think you enjoy hearing me whine, but please, please think about what you're doing when you show them me in your seat. It's a little far-fetched.” 

He receives no response, though Blue purrs her dissent somewhere in his head, and it’s a long walk back to his room. 

Him? A leader? The Black Paladin? There's a million points he could make, a million pieces of evidence that should immediately disqualify him- even if the Black Lion’s points about Allura and Keith are admittedly valid. Lance is a goofball with immaturity to spare and a dry wit; he's certainly not the man Shiro was.

 

Shiro was silent and level-headed, never faltering. His words carried the weight of authority and wisdom; he always had a good, smart plan. And on top of that, this was Shiro. 

He’s been my hero since I got to the Garrison. 

Lance remembers their last day on Earth, in Keith’s shack. How he’d hesitated before taking Shiro’s hand, thinking: This is my idol, I saved his life, he knows my name. How can I ever live up to him? How can I show him I’m strong?

Everything about Shiro seemed so unattainable and powerful that taking his place just seemed wrong. And sure, Lance eventually got to know the guy a little better after they all became team Voltron, but even then Shiro was still detached from Lance, only ever really speaking to him to reprimand his humor or bad decisions. 

So that’s what Lance, as Black Paladin, will have to copy. 

Can I even do this?

Those and many more questions plague Lance’s mind as he saunters into his room. He collapses onto his bed with a huff, not bothering to go through his nightly hygiene routine, and, after checking in silence to hear how Keith is faring next door, promptly falls asleep. 

He dreams of blackness. 

\--

He's the first in the hangar the next morning. 

Coran comes in soon after; Lance wonders if the advisor ever sleeps, or if he even has a room onboard the Castle. 

The man approaches the Lion, mustache trimmed and clothes pressed. He stares up into Black’s golden eyes with one part respect and two parts awe. 

“The others will he here soon.” He says. 

Lance nods, stepping next to Coran. 

“When I was a boy on Altea, Lance, I always thought of Voltron as a powerful and revered being, whose decisions were as good as law. The sentience of the Lions and Voltron as a whole is one of the most mystical and powerful aspects of the weapon, an unexpected outcome of King Alfor’s quintessence-fusing technology.” 

Lance hums. He's had a soft spot for Coran ever since they found Voltron, but since Shiro’s disappearance he's been especially fond of the royal advisor’s wisdom and wit. 

“My point is, I'm sorry for Allura’s actions last night. Trust that she respects the Lions just as I do. It's just an emotional time.” He turns to Lance with that warm smile. 

“I know, Coran. But I'll be honest, I don't think she was that wrong.” Coran looks at him inquisitively. “I mean, she was a little prickly, and so was Keith, but they have a point- I can't lead Voltron. I can't fill Shiro’s shoes. I have no clue what the Lions are thinking.” 

Coran seems to take this in with pensiveness. “Why do you feel that way, Lance?” 

Lance opens his mouth to answer with an instant ‘because I know I'm not good enough’, but Coran raises a finger. 

“Really think about your answer. Why don't you think you're ready? Why do you agree with Allura and Keith?” 

“I guess… I guess it's because I’ve never really been a front man before? Like, I'm the guy who takes people's attention, not the guy who has it all the time like Keith or Shiro. I'm more of a background character, in my opinion. And not in like an always bad way, I just don't think of myself as a person that others see all the time.” 

“Especially when it comes to Allura, yes?” Coran asks quietly. 

“Oh yeah,” Lance nods, “especially with her.” 

It's silent for a heartbeat before Coran says, “Would you believe me if I told you that I know how you feel?” 

Lance eyes him with a questioning gaze. 

“It's true. Before Zarkon destroyed Altea, I served as a Royal Advisor to the family, including young Allura and King Alfor.” 

“I know, but now look at you. You're practically a prince honestly, running this whole show all by yourself.” Lance says, unwilling to let Coran succumb to melancholy. 

Coran laughs, settling a hand on the paw of the Black Lion. “Oh dear. Sure, Lance, I'm a prince now, but imagine what my life was like when I was an advisor to a child Princess and the King of Altea and Red Paladin of Voltron. I was practically invisible, coordinating the crew of the Castle and keeping Allura safe, while communicating with the Paladins and supporting them in battle, at times. I was so much more than an advisor- but none other than Alfor ever gave me so much as a glimpse of recognition for the stress of my job. Even now, Allura doesn't really think of all that I did back then other than what she remembers.” 

“Shit… I didn't even realize, Coran.” Lance says. He hoists himself up to sit on the inward facing side of the Black Lion’s paw, and Coran mirrors him effortlessly when the Lion gives their consent. 

“Yes, yes. It's all in the past now, of course, but my point is: Even without the recognition I deserved, I knew I deserved, I continued to do my job based on duty and love for the Royal family. Despite my near invisibility, my perceived unimportance, I never broke under the weight of my job. Perhaps this, your appointment as the Black Paladin, is your chance to do the same.” Coran finishes with a sigh, swinging his legs to and fro. 

“Wow, Coran- that was, uh, that was deep.” 

The advisor chuckles. “If you say so, Lance. I believe that in time you'll make a fine leader. And once we find Shiro, he'll surely hear of your accomplishments as his substitute.” 

Lance winces lightly. 

“Equal substitute.” Coran corrects, and then clears his throat as the hangar doors open. “And that’s how the first teladuv was made.” 

The look in his eyes tells Lance to play along, so he says, “Wow, that's insane. I'm always baffled by Altean technology.” 

Hopefully it's convincing enough as Allura and Keith storm into the hangar, overflowing with well-rested vigor and a fiery glint in their eyes. 

“Why are they together?” Coran whispers. 

“Well,” Lance answers as the two approach, “wolves travel in packs.” 

“What was that, Lance?” Allura asks sharply, tilting her head at the Blue Paladin. 

“Nothing, nothing. Just talking to Coran about technology. Some of it is just fascinating.” 

Keith snorts. “Because you understand it so well.”

Lance sighs, not gracing Keith with an answer. “Where are the others?” 

The Princess points her finger at the door. “Right behind us, just finishing up their breakfast.” Her eyes burn with suspicion as she glances between Lance and Coran, but she says nothing more. 

Hunk enters a moment later with a smiling and energetic Pidge in tow, both of which are a rare sight these days- but things really seem to be changing around here, Lance admits, if yesterday was anything to go by.

“Hey guys,” Hunk says, “what are we talking about?” 

“Yes, Allura, what are we talking about exactly?” Pidge says. “Me and Hunk kinda feel like if Lions decided this, we shouldn't really argue with them-”

Lance is almost touched by his friends’ faith in him before Keith interrupts. 

“You've got to be kidding me, Pidge . You can't possibly think Lance can be Black Paladin.” 

“I'm afraid I stand with Keith on this matter. Shiro appointed Keith to the position, and I believe we should respect his wishes until he takes his seat again.” 

Lance feels the urge to speak, and doesn't regret his tone. “Oh really? What happened to ‘the Lions choose their pilots’, Princess?”

She regards him with very subtle anger that may border on dislike, but Coran interrupts. “Can I ask, Allura, why you and Keith are so vehemently opposed to this idea?” 

“Lance is too.” Keith is quick to defend, but the two Alteans ignore him. 

“You know the Lions. You respect them, don't you?” Coran says. 

“Of course I do.” 

“Then why are you denying their wishes?” 

“Because,” Allura says, visibly frustrated, “Lance is by no means a leader. I follow the Lions decisions as long as they make sense. This one does not.”

“Hey, Princess, Lance is right there, you don't have to be so-” 

“Shut it, Hunk, you know she's right.” Keith spits, and that makes Lance angry. 

“Asshole.” He says, and Keith turns to him out of habit. There's an edge to his glare that would send most people running, but Lance is long past the point of being afraid of Keith. “Don't talk to Hunk like that.” 

Keith only scoffs. 

“She is right, though. You can't lead, Lance. You can barely take two steps without almost getting sucked out into space. You're distracted all the time, you never listen to people, and you're disrespectful-” 

Lance, despite having never wanted this job in the first place, can feel the tension rising in his body as Keith insults him, and he feels a sudden compulsion to defend himself- not because he's desperate to be Black Paladin like Keith is apparently, but because he wants to know what he's worth. 

“Give me one good example of me being disrespectful.” 

Keith stops in his tracks to think. “At the Blade of Marmora base. You yelled at Shiro because you wanted to go instead of me like our missions are some special trophy or something.” 

“Oh, is that why? Or did I want to go because I knew you'd be reckless and too headstrong and get one of you hurt, which is exactly what happened?” 

Keith ignores him. “Every time you've ever attempted to flirt with Allura- that's disrespectful, and you’re shooting way too high there, bud.”

“Oh please,” Lance scoffs, “now you're just reaching. I don't do that anymore.”

“Yeah well, either way,” Keith says, still angry and tense, “you can't be the Black Paladin.” 

“Can I just say, if you don't mind. Um, what makes you so qualified, Keith? Just because Shiro said so?” Hunk says, and Lance feels the burden of debate on his shoulders lessen. 

“I'm strong. I'm stern and fair, and you all respect me.” Lance snorts there, but Keith continues. “I make good decisions-” 

Hunk interrupts again. “Dude. The first time we met, you drove us all off a cliff with Shiro’s unconscious body. You tried to fight Zarkon himself with nothing but Red. You dove headfirst into a series of trials from a secret Galra organization that we knew nothing about, and came out with a giant wound. And although this is petty, I still think it's valid: remember our last Galra Paladin?” 

Keith immediately winces, and Lance revels in it. 

Anything to see Keith knocked down a few pegs. 

“This bickering is pointless. If you're all so opposed to Keith leading Voltron, then I'll do it.” Allura steers the conversation clear of the danger zone. 

Lance sends Hunk a look of graciousness across the small circle the six people have formed, and Hunk smiles back. Allura leading is certainly agreeable to everyone. 

“Absolutely not.” Coran says then. 

Okay, not everyone apparently. 

“What? Why? She's more qualified than anyone-” Keith starts, but Coran ignores him again. 

“I won't have Allura that close to the Galra when battle comes. In the Blue Lion, I'll feel safer- she's much more caring towards her Paladins. But the head of Voltron is an over-emotional state as long as Shiro is missing, so I don't trust them to keep Allura safe.” 

“I don't need to be kept safe, Coran.” Allura bites back, but Coran merely shakes his head. 

“Without you, the Castle becomes useless. No wormholes, no magic, and no crystals. I'm afraid you won't be going anywhere.” 

Allura huffs her dissent, definitely willing to fight this to the end- but Keith picks back up where he left off. “Okay, but Lance still can't be the Black Paladin.”

“Because you hate me that much.” Lance says. Keith continues. 

“He just can't. It won't make sense.” 

“Pidge,” Coran says, “how do you feel about all this?” 

Pidge had been hiding behind Hunk for most of the discussion, deep in thought, but now she squares up to the rest of them, looking quite curious. 

“I'm not entirely sure. We've seen reasons why Keith shouldn't be leader, and why Lance shouldn't- but are they any reasons why you should be the Black Paladin, Lance?” Her gaze, half analytical and half apologetic, falls on the Blue Paladin. 

“I'm not very strong in the self-confidence department actually.” Lance says, but he catches Coran mouthing advisor at him just in time. “But, um, I- I know I’m decisive. I don't dwindle with important decisions. I do my job when called upon. I'm good with people and their emotions.” That's what he tries off the top of his head, and Hunk and Coran seem satisfied. The rest do not. “And the Black Lion chose me,” he adds. 

The hangar is silent. 

“I think it should be Keith.” Allura says. 

Keith nods, and Pidge shrugs.

Lance feels a pang of wild anguish in his heart, and suddenly he's yelling. “How can any of the three of you have an opinion anyways? You haven't even been on the ship for the past month. The minute Shiro left you all decided to up and self-destruct, and Hunk, Coran and I have been keeping you all alive ever since! How can you even have an opinion on a team that you left a month ago?” 

His uncaged spiel dies in the silence of the hangar. Pidge looks guilty, averting her eyes to her feet. Allura is completely blank, staring at Coran absently, and Keith is still flushed with frustration. 

“Well that sucks for you. We didn't ask for that, and we didn't ask for this either.” Keith says, looking around at everyone. “It's a tie, three votes for me and three votes for Lance-” 

“What is this, a fucking election? What more is there to argue, Keith? Why do you hate Lance so much? The Lion chose him. The Lion.” Hunk says in a burst of rare anger that leaves everyone feeling uncomfortable. 

Lance feels the need to diffuse the situation before Voltron tears itself apart. “If we're talking votes,” he says, “then technically it's eight to three, counting the Lions.”

“I still don't think-” Allura starts, but a massive roar erupts from the Black Lion, and then their jaw is on the ground. 

They let everyone see an image of Lance walking up the steps into the cockpit, along with a clear, stern indication that their decision is fucking final. 

The team is startled into frigid shock. 

It's time, Coran’s voice says in the back of Lance’s head- or is that Blue? 

Then, Lance approaches. 

“Don't you dare-” Keith snarls, but Hunk’s hand lands heavy on his shoulder to keep him in place. 

Lance opens his palm to the front of the Lion’s mouth- but then he hesitates in a burst of realization. 

“Princess.” He says. “If I do this right now, am I gonna lose my connection with Blue?” 

She sighs, clearly antagonistic to this whole situation, but answers, albeit begrudgingly. “Yes. You'll become bonded with the Black Lion through their permission, and I will take Blue’s bond when she is ready. If you'd like to say goodbye, now is the time.” 

Lance hums his thanks, and lowers his hand. He reaches out to the Blue Lion where she sits in his mind. He sends love and thankfulness, for her support and caring and fierce protection. 

She responds with instructions to sit on the floor. 

He makes a questioning noise out loud, but after a second complies nonetheless. 

Once seated, a sharp pain shoots down his spine and his eyes fly open with a yelp- but the world has become an opaque blackness, dotted with stars. 

“Where am I?” He says, surprised when his voice echoes around the plane. He notices the floor on which he stands is non-existent. 

“This is my home.” Blue’s voice, rarely heard by Lance in a proper speaking fashion, rings out. 

He turns around to see Blue- but she's not as she is in reality. Here she's a real Lion, with a sleek, blue coat of fur covering her lithe body, and two glowing crests under her feline eyes. 

An Altean Lion. 

“I know you want to say goodbye.” She says, coming up to Lance who's still seated on the ground. 

“Of course I do, Blue. I'm going to miss you.” He runs his hand over her back, unafraid. 

“And I you, Paladin. You will return when Shiro is found.” 

“The Black Lion will hate me.” He says, but Blue growls, nuzzling into his chest. 

“They will not hate you. They will be difficult. But they hate no one.” 

“If you say so… You should probably talk to Allura about all this once she bonds with you.” 

“I will. I'll make her see.” Blue says, climbing fully into Lance’s lap. Her body is soft and warm, but her muscles remain solid and awkward against his legs. “Please, Paladin Lance. Remember my faith in you. I believe you can do this. Paladin Hunk believes it. So does Coran. You are capable. You are ready.” 

The words of reassurance to little to quell Lance’s nerves, but he feels he hasn't a choice but to nod and pet the Lion soothingly again. 

“Go forth, now. Become the Black Paladin.” 

And when Lance opens his eyes again, he's back in the hangar. He can feel everyone’s eyes on his back. He stands. 

“Go ahead, Lance.” Hunk goads him on. 

This time, without waiting, he presses his hand to the maw of the Black Lion. 

In an instant, the feeling of Blue at the back of his mind dissipates and a much bigger, darker presence appears. If he focuses on it he can make out hysteria and rage, some loneliness- and the million other emotions that make up the Black Lion, the head of Voltron. 

“It's official.” He says to the hangar. 

“What now?” Hunk asks. 

For a heartbeat, no one moves- but then Keith turns on his heel and tears out of the hangar, never saying a word. 

“Now, we have some things to adjust. Lance, you'll need to go inside Black and obtain-” she pauses, swallowing. “Get Shiro’s bayard. It will take a new form for you.” 

“What about his armor?” Pidge wonders. 

“I’ll be wearing my own battle armor while in Blue, so Lance can keep his own Paladin armor as Shiro’s disappeared with him.” 

There's an uncomfortable silence. 

“We'll have to relearn how to form Voltron.” Lance says, and Allura is quick to nod. 

“Yes. Most of the rehabilitation will rely on you, Lance, so I hope you're ready.”

“I have to be.” 

“Good.” 

“We’ll start training right after Lance is situated. Let's take a break for now.” Coran says, and again, everyone disperses.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyo, chapter two!!!  
> Thanks to everyone who left comments and kudos on the first chapter, this is a lot of fun and when you enjoy it, I enjoy it even more! So without further ado, let's see how the team is adjusting to Lance's new role...  
> (this isn't totally proofread but y'know...)

**** Lance finds Keith in the hallway outside their rooms- or more accurately, Keith is waiting for the new Black Paladin ominously, leaning against his door. 

 

“Keith.” Lance says when he's a few steps away. “Keith, if you're mad or whatever-” 

 

“Let me clarify a few things, Lance.” Keith says, monotone. “You're not Shiro. You'll never be as good as Shiro. You don't have my respect, and you won't earn it any time soon. When Shiro comes back, he's taking Black back too.”

 

Lance works past the lump of hot pain that's crawling up his throat. “You really fucking hate me, don't you?” 

 

“No.” Keith says. 

 

“Then what is this, Keith? Why are you saying all this? Don't you think I know I'm not Shiro?”

 

“Honestly? I don't know.” 

 

“See, that's what I mean. Before Shiro left, I really thought we were making progress, Keith- I- I thought we were friends.” 

 

“You thought wrong.” 

 

_ That  _ makes Lance mad. “What are you, five? You're gonna let some stupid jealousy divide the whole team? Oh, poor Keith didn't get what Shiro promised him for once, and now he's throwing a goddamn tantrum.” 

 

“I'm not jealous of  _ you _ ,” Keith spits, eyes clouded with rage. “I'd never stoop that low. No, I'm angry because you don't deserve the seat- you've done nothing to help the team in all the times we've been here. Pidge would make a better Black Paladin than you- at least she cares about whether Shiro comes back.” 

 

Lance almost reels back, because this is getting ridiculous- of course Keith will play this card, just like the Black Lion: ‘if you don't spent every breath you have looking for Shiro, then you're a traitor and you hate him’. Lance is wondering vaguely if this argument will ruin Voltron, or if Keith will just spiral out of control- but suddenly he realizes that if Voltron does fall apart, it's his fault. Keith’s wellbeing, as well as the others’, has become his responsibility. 

 

_ I am the Black Paladin.  _

 

He tailors his response to hopefully mirror this to Keith. 

 

“That's not very Paladin-like of you to say, Keith. Regardless of who's in charge, you should get a better grip on your emotions and learn to fucking play nice. Now go get ready for training.” 

 

Keith’s face expresses anger, then soft shock, and then settles in blank indifference. “You're not Shiro.” 

 

“Nope. I'm Lance, the Black Paladin.” Lance says, then pushes Keith off his door and steps into his room to don his dust-gathering armor.

 

\--

 

Lance feels like the last couple eons of his life have unfolded right here, looking up at the Black Lion in the spacious hangar. 

 

It's about to be his first time inside the cockpit, and he'll be the first person to enter since they discovered Shiro’s absence. He'll be the first to have his hand on the Black bayard, and the first to fly the Lion, and the first to form Voltron since- 

 

_ Breathe.  _

 

He reprimands himself. The most futile emotion he can feel right now is unworthiness; he knows this because Black is constantly reminding him that he's the new leader of Voltron, even if they aren't too keen to the idea either. 

 

All that's left to do is go inside and grab the bayard, then he's to report to the training deck where the rest of the team is waiting. He reaches out to Black with gentle tendrils of warm, inquisitive calm. 

 

_ Can I enter?  _ He asks, attempting to keep the Lion as docile as possible. 

 

Black responds with dubious consent, lowering their jaw to the floor and opening up to their new Paladin. 

 

_ Thanks,  _ Lance says, trying to remember if he was this cautious with Blue when they were first bonding. 

 

The cockpit is dark and lonely, just as he expected. 

 

The lights are all off and the bayard rests on the pilot’s chair, removed by Allura not long after the team filed out a month ago, incredulous. 

 

He picks it up gingerly, but does not activate it. 

 

_ It's not the time. Not in Black,  _ he thinks privately. It seems like even his innermost emotions are vulnerable when around the Black Lion; their presence is so heavy and full in his mind. 

 

His armor looks dangerously out of place in the cockpit; the light blue that seems paler after such long disuse clashes with the black and faded purple of his new Lion. 

 

_ Lots to adjust to.  _

 

With one final look, he trots out of the Lion, giving them a warm goodbye as he exits. The Lion doesn't respond, and he wonders how long it'll take for him to become his old self again. 

 

\-- 

 

The Black bayard takes a new form for Lance. He doesn't activate it until he's on the battlefield of the training room, along with the three other Paladins and Allura. 

 

_ Four other Paladins, I guess. _

 

Coran starts them off easy, just a regular gladiator battle- but when they all circle up and face outwards, bayards drawn, the familiar weight of Lance’s blue rifle seems to double and he's suddenly very encumbered. 

 

“Holy quiznak!” Pidge shouts, interrupting Coran’s countdown. The other Paladins turn to see Lance, struggling with a long, deadly looking black sniper rifle fit for a Navy Seal. 

 

It extends five feet out from Lance’s body, with a stock and receiver similar to his old gun, but the design is sleeker and longer. The barrel is pitch black and perfectly straight, accompanied by a gigantic scope. Lance hefts the weapon upwards, examining it. 

 

“Goddamn, that's impressive.” Hunk says, eyeing the gun slowly. 

 

“I'll admit, I was curious to see how the bayard would differ from the old one.” Allura says.

 

“Dude, that's so badass!” Pidge says. 

 

Keith is silent of course, but it's better than some kind of desperate berating comment. 

 

Lance feels excitement coil in his gut. 

 

_ This  _ is  _ pretty fucking cool,  _ he thinks, stroking his free hand over the base of the rifle.

 

_ I am the Black Paladin. This is real.  _

 

It's a pretty crazy realization as he swings the gun around, bringing it to eye level. The scope has high, medium, and low magnification settings that he'll have to fiddle with later, and there’s also a small display on the side, near the trigger, that says AUTO/SEMI. 

 

“This is awesome- I wanna try it out.” He finds himself saying, and the excitement in Pidge and Hunk’s eyes seems so out of character that Lance wonders, not for the last time, if this is all one long dream. 

 

“Good idea,” Coran voice crackles in from the viewing area above the training room. “Ready for gladiator level three?” 

 

Lance nods at the opaque glass, and then turns to his team.  _ His _ team. 

 

“Alright guys. Dry run- let's try this out. Let's keep to our usual planning and maneuvers and take this thing slow, okay?” 

 

Hunk smiles brightly, hoisting his cannon as if it were lighter than a scaultrite cookie. “Hell yeah.”

 

Pidge is tense with anticipation. 

 

Allura nods firmly, twirling her bo staff readily. 

 

Keith barely gives Lance a glimpse before he draws his sword and turns around. 

 

_ Black Paladin Lance, activate! _

 

The giddy thought comes and goes as the gladiator drops in from the ceiling, right in front of Pidge. 

 

The Green Paladin combat rolls right between the robot’s legs as Allura swings her pole at it. It blocks her easily, and when Pidge comes from the behind he extends a leg to catch her off balance and send her flailing to the floor. 

 

Hunk and Lance have already retreated back, wary of their weapons’ extended ranges. Lance switches his scope to the lowest magnification and fingers the trigger gently. 

 

_ Allura must be holding back,  _ he realizes curiously.  _ She'd have destroyed this bot seconds ago.  _

 

Pidge lunges in again, trying to hit the bot’s blindspot, but Keith comes in hard with a strike that offsets the bot’s footing. Allura uses her pole to push Pidge away just in time as the bot falls, landing hard on its back. Keith drives his sword into its chest mercilessly, and it disappears into motes of light. 

 

Lance lowers his gun. “Alright, well. Didn't even get a shot in. Maybe this is too easy?” He turns to Hunk, eyebrow quirked under the blue crest of his helm. 

 

“That's up to you, Lance.” Allura says. 

 

“Yeah. Call a play if you want something done, like Shiro used to.” Keith adds, challenging. 

 

Hunk looks to him and shrugs, as if to say ‘he's got you there’. 

 

“Gotcha. Alright, Coran, take us up to level five please. Allura and Keith are gonna go nuts if we keep it this low. Team Voltron, let's try a classic- the boom-boom-pow.” 

 

He holds his chin up with what he hopes is authority and confidence, but the other Paladins just look confused. 

 

“The what?” Pidge says. 

 

_ Fuck, I forgot the original names.  _

 

Of course he's referring to the code names of the battle strategies that the team had adapted over their time in space, each one referring to a different sequence of attacks to take an enemy down. Lane had renamed most of them for his own enjoyment- but also because he never learned the real names when Shiro drawled on about them. 

 

“Um, the one where Pidge and Allura break the defense, Hunk staggers him, and Keith goes for final blow.” Lance says. 

 

“Spearhead.” Keith clarifies in monotone, and the other Paladins nod in recognition. 

 

Lance clears his throat. All eyes are on him, and the rifle in his hands gets heavier all of the sudden. 

 

“Team Voltron, let's go spearhead. Level five, Coran.” 

 

“Copy that,” the advisor says, and the bot drops in. 

 

Everything goes according to plan- at least at first. 

 

The bot is noticeably faster and stronger two levels up, but Allura manages to clash her staff against its weapon roughly long enough for Pidge to flank it. The Green Paladin drives her bayard into the bot’s thigh, and its attention diverts enough that Allura can push it back, then proceed to roll away. Pidge follows suit, and before the bot recovers from the imbalance Hunk is blasting its chest with three quick shots. 

 

“Go for kill!” Lance finds himself yelling, but Keith is nowhere to be seen. “Keith!” he says as the bot rights itself and sets its eyes on Lance. “Keith, go for-” he cuts himself off and raises the rifle. 

 

The scope is still low magnification as he takes aim on the bot’s fast approaching head. His preparation breath is ragged and quick but he takes his shot, and it hits its mark with a flash of purple light and a ringing boom. 

 

The bot disappears, and behind the dissipating simulation stands the Red Paladin. 

 

“Where were you? I said to go for the kill.” Lance says sternly, and he feels a familiar itch to reprimand Keith gnawing at his tongue. 

 

Keith shrugs passively. “Sometimes your men don't follow orders- you have to adapt on the battlefield.” 

 

“That’s not the point. That was a specific exercise we were carrying out, not a time to experiment.” Lance says calmly, praying his tone sounds different than his usual bickering whine. 

 

Apparently it doesn't, because Allura has a glint of amusement in her eyes, and Lance suddenly realizes what that was. 

 

_ They don't take me seriously. They think this is a joke.  _

 

He clenches his fist around his gun. 

 

“I gave an order, Keith, and it's your job to follow it.”

 

“Says who?” 

 

“Says me. Let's try again, and this time, do your job.” It takes everything in him to hold back a sneer, because  _ fucking Keith.  _

 

If that's all this is gonna be, a merciless tug-of-war, then Lance isn’t gonna let them drag him through the mud. This is real, he knows. The Universe really does need Voltron, and they can't wait around for Shiro forever. Keith and Allura seem to think they can. 

 

“Coran,” he says, voice quavering. “Launch it again.” 

 

\--

 

That's how training goes for the first few days- brutal and rocky. 

 

Lance would like to think it's inexperience- no one on the ship has properly trained in weeks now so maybe the rusty gears of the Voltron machine aren't due to his poor leadership. 

 

Keith likes to make Lance think it's the latter, and with Allura silently agreeing and Hunk and Coran sworn to silence by duty, Lance has to face it all alone. 

 

Two days after Lance’s promotion, Allura and the Paladins try the mind meld. 

 

It's a suggestion from Pidge, after Lance had voiced his eagerness to try forming Voltron. 

 

He knows in his logical mind how important it is that the team be safe and prepared for their new roles and everything- but the Universe is in bad shape, and that tiny nugget of selfless heroism that Voltron had inspired in all of them was starting to weigh down on him more. 

 

They gather in the training room as usual, where they've spent most of the past seventy two hours. They're sitting in their circle, headsets on. 

 

“Have you ever done this before, Princess?” Lance asks as he settles between Hunk and Pidge.

 

“No. I've never formed Voltron either, before you ask.” 

 

Lance rolls his eyes at her bitter tone. 

 

“You know the drill, Paladins.” Coran says. “Clear your minds. First, touch down with your Lion, then focus on forming Voltron.” 

 

Lance closes his eyes and centers himself, and then reaches out to Black. 

 

_ Hey. You ready to try this?  _

 

He's still being gentle with them, cautious of any agitation that would ruin the dynamic. Allura did say that Black was in an overly emotional state. 

 

The Lion responds sleepily after a moment, a few affirmatives that aren't, for once, interlaced with condescending skepticism. 

 

_ Okay. We can do this, y’know.  _

 

The Lion affirms again, and then Lance focuses on forming Voltron. 

 

As it happens, forming a leg and forming the head are two different experiences- Lance had assumed that the way he and Blue did it was the same for everyone. Forming Black and reaching out to his other Paladins feels more sluggish and heavy, like it takes more effort- but when he cracks his eye open, he sees the holographic Voltron forming smoothly, with him as the center. Each time a Lion connects, he can feel a little bit of the weight lift.

 

_ Left arm.  _

 

_ Left leg.  _

 

_ Right arm… _

 

Then, nothing. He opens his eyes again. 

 

In front of Allura’s face, taut with concentration, hovers an image of her father- but no Blue Lion, as the rest of the Paladins have done. 

 

“Allura?” Lance says timidly, aiming his mental capacities at hers. 

 

The swirling tresses of her mind ebb against his for a fleeting moment- and then she shuts the contact down, retreating completely. She tears off her headset. 

 

“What’s up?” Hunk says, wary of the way she’s avoiding all eyes. 

 

“Yeah, we really almost had it there- good job, Lance, by the way.” Pidge says, but her attention still rests on the Princess. 

 

The Altean regards the Paladins’ scrutiny with indifference, but Lance sees the mild irritation that flickers across her face. 

 

Coran’s voice crackles out. “Allura? Have you not bonded with the Blue Lion?” 

 

She sighs, turning to Keith. 

 

“I didn't think I needed to. I figured I'd wait for- for-” 

 

“Wait for what?” Lance asks. 

 

Hunk, strangely enough, answers for all of them. “She was gonna wait for you to quit.” His tone isn't venomous, but it's certainly not the Hunk Lance is used to hearing. 

 

“No.” Keith says. “She was gonna wait for Shiro to come back. She didn't think she needed to bond yet.” He looks at her sympathetically. 

 

Lance has that urge to scoff again, but he holds it down. 

 

_ I'm a leader now. Act like one.  _

 

“Um…” He tries, still tentative. All eyes turn to him, and he swallows roughly. “I know we miss Shiro. I do too. But unfortunately, as much as I'd like to just get up tomorrow and have him waiting there in a healing pod for us, we have to be realistic. There are people dying out there- people who need Voltron. We've waited long enough, we have to get out there and make sure they know we're here for them.” He looks around at the others. “We will find Shiro. I know we will. I also know my position isn't permanent, and that I'm only a temp- but I'm gonna try to fill Shiro’s shoes as best I can while I'm here, and I need your guys’ help with that. Even Keith’s.” Everyone but the Red Paladin and Allura smile at his joke. “Just try to remember: as much as I wish I could fully fill the gap, Shiro and I  _ are _ different shapes.” 

 

There's silence in the training room. 

 

_ Where the hell did all that come from? _

 

Lance is surprised by himself. He'd never been one to give speeches, even though he does like his fair share of attention- but the whole rallying cry, freedom fighter shtick was much more Shiro’s territory than his own. 

 

However, the Paladins seem to disagree. 

 

Hunk is radiating subtle pride, smiling at his friend. Pidge seems pleased, but only just- satisfied, maybe. Allura has guarded disbelief on her face as she gazes directly at Lance. 

 

Even Keith is looking at Lance, really looking at him, for the first time in a long while. His face is indifferent, but a part of Lance hopes that maybe he and the Red Paladin can begin to reconcile in the near future, when the dust has settled. 

 

“Why don't we call it a day? Let's get some rest- Allura, your homework is to bond with Blue. She's the most precious and sweetest girl in the world, so don't be shy.” 

 

The Princess nods. 

 

Coran comes into the room as the headsets disappear, looking quite satiated as he helps the Princess to her feet. Keith and Pidge wander to the doors immediately, presumably to catch some alone time- but Lance manages to grab Hunk by the elbow. 

 

“Wanna hang?” He says casually, like it’s Friday after school and he’s avoiding his responsibilities at home. 

 

Hunk smiles brightly at him. 

 

_ He seems to be doing that a lot lately.  _

 

“Sure,” the Yellow Paladin says.

 

As they walk past, Coran flashes Lance a look of immense pride that leaves the Blu-  _ Black  _ Paladin’s insides warm. 

 

_ Black Paladin. That's me. _

 

\--

 

“So that was pretty cool, what you said today.” Hunk says as he removes a tray from the oven. A few crumbs catch on his apron as he stands up straight. 

 

“You think? I really wasn't planning on all that.” Lance answers. He’s sitting on the countertop, swinging his crossed legs back and forth. 

 

“It was nice either way. It's what we needed to hear.” Hunk says. 

 

“Was it leader-like?” Lance asks.

 

“Even better- it was Shiro-esque.” 

 

They both laugh at that. Hunk continues to bake some ‘back to work’ celebration cookies, and Lance is grateful. 

 

(Though, Hunk would make up any occasion to work his magic in the kitchen.) 

 

“You really think I'm doing okay?” Lance says after watching Hunk place dough on a prep tray. 

 

“I think it's going great. But-” 

 

“But? But what? Is it because I forgot the maneuvers, because they're hard for me to remember-” 

 

“Whoa, whoa Lance. Slow down.” Hunk says, using his oven mitts as dampeners to Lance’s fire. “Don't be so worried. I was just gonna say that Keith and Allura are really giving you a hard time.” 

 

“Oh,” Lance says, relief flooding his system. “Yeah, they are.” He's not sure what else to say on the matter- not that he doesn't think Hunk is on his side, but he doesn't want to cause anymore distance in the team’s dynamic. 

 

“I understand that you have some stuff to work on behaviorally and that it'll take practice- but after we found out about Allura not bonding with Blue yet, I feel like she and Keith aren't so much trying to help you as much as they are trying to-” 

 

“Demoralize me. They want me to give it up so one of them can take the mantle of Black Paladin.” 

 

Hunk nods gravely. “I don't wanna start drama or anything, because we have enough of that as it is. And you know me, I don't have any deep-rooted issues with either of them. They're my teammates and I need them just as much as they need me. But if they keep treating you like this when it's obvious that you're doing your best…” 

 

The rest of the sentence goes unsaid, but Lance understands his friend perfectly. He gets off the counter and slows Hunk’s baking frenzy with a hand on his thick forearm. 

 

“Hunk, don't you worry about Allura and Keith. I'm a people person, I can fix all that. You just focus on forming that leg and making bomb-ass cookies, okay?” 

 

Hunk looks into Lance’s eyes, something edging on defiance lurking there- but it retreats back and makes way for a calm, reassured pleasantness that Lance likes a lot better. 

 

“If you're okay, I'm okay, Lance.” 

 

The Black Paladin smiles at him before snatching a cooling cookie off the nearest tray. 

 

Hunk looks affronted. “Was all that just so you could steal a cookie?” 

 

Lance pretends to be insulted, pressing a palm to his chest. “Hunk, I am a leader and role model for this team. Why would I do such a thing?” 

 

Hunk scoffs. “You remind me of that summer before eighth grade.” 

 

Lance grins. “When we went to see my family in Varadero?” 

 

“Oh yeah,” Hunk nods, “and you stole your grandmother’s candy six times before your sister ratted you out.” 

 

“ _ Sister _ ,” Lance says, air-quoting to word. “I'm still pretty damn sure that was you, Hunk.” 

 

The Yellow Paladin turns his back to put another tray of dough in the oven. “Why, I never.” He mirrors Lance.

 

“How about that time you drove away from the gas station in Arizona with the handle still plugged into your car?” Lance says through a giggle. 

 

“Please, Lance. Remember when you got caught making out with Lilah Hwang at the Garrison?” 

 

“Or when you got spanked by my mom in third grade for lying to me about where babies come from?” 

 

“Or when you…”

 

\--

 

The night of their third day of training, Keith has a horrible nightmare- it's nothing new to Lance.

 

The only difference is now, he feels like he needs to get up and help the Red Paladin, try to quell the quiet screams and heavy breathing that filters through the cold metal walls. 

 

He doesn't. 

 

\--

 

Lance is woken the next morning by a deep, threatening growl in his ear. He shoots upright in bed, blindly reaching for anything he can use as a weapon- but then he realizes it's just Black in his mind, reacting to something. 

 

He calms himself considerably, holding a hand to his chest to control his breathing. 

 

_ What’s wrong, Black?  _ He asks gingerly, stepping out of bed and towards his bathroom. 

 

The Lion informs him that Allura just bonded with Blue. 

 

Lance gargles some tap water in the bathroom before reaching for his toothbrush and paste. He sees himself in the mirror, eyes a little darkened but he looks rested enough. 

 

_ Is that not a good thing? _

 

Black lets him feel their uneasiness, discomfort and reluctance. As if they weren't ready, like they didn't think it was actually happening until now. 

 

_ I know this is different, but we have to try. As soon as we find Shiro, everything will go back to normal.  _

 

He hopes his reassurance will curb the Lion’s emotions considerably as he applies his skincare regimen and dresses into his usual outfit, ready to face the day. If he remembers correctly, today would be the first day they try to form Voltron with their new Paladin situation- which means it'll be hard, tense work as they guide their Lions through the vast space the Castle’s been floating through for the past month. 

 

And maybe Lance can understand the way Black is feeling right now- it's still pretty staggering whenever he takes a moment to tell himself that he's the Black Paladin, sitting in Shiro’s seat. But if it ever gets too overwhelming, he simply pictures thousands of alien civilizations being destroyed by Galra factions and the feeling goes away. 

 

_ Time to go back to defending the Universe, _ he thinks as he makes his way to the bridge. 

  
  


Everyone else is already there when he arrives, but they didn't beat him there by much. It seems like everyone is well-rested, if not a bit cranky, and Lance sighs in relief at the evaporation of his prepared ‘take care of yourselves’ speech. 

 

“Mornin’ everybody.” He says, punctuated by Pidge’s intrusive yawn. 

 

“Morning, Lance. What's the plan today?” Hunk says, addressing the room. 

 

“There's a lot to do,” starts Allura. “We need to form Voltron today. I bonded with the Blue Lion this morning, so there should be no more obstructions.” 

 

“Sounds good.” Hunk says. 

 

Keith is silent by his chair, looking out at the stars blankly. 

 

“Okay everyone, I guess let's suit up and head to the Lions. If we do this right, it shouldn't take but a minute.” Lance says. 

 

He moves to his elevator, rolling his shoulders on the way to prepare for vigorous flight training. It's not until the door stays closed that he sees Allura next to him and feels the gaze of everyone else on his neck. 

 

“Wrong one, Lance.” Keith says darkly. 

 

Lance’s skin practically chars as he moves to Shiro’s massive chair in front of Allura’s central podium. 

 

“Right.” He coughs once, awkwardly. “Suit up, everyone.” 

  
  


Sitting in Black’s cockpit, preparing for flight- it’s definitely not the same as when he was in here last, for the Black bayard. Everything about this Lion, from their emotions to their size to their knowledge, was surprising Lance more and more each day. 

 

Black gives a small mewl of protest when Lance sits down in the pilot’s chair. Before he can ask what’s wrong, an image of Shiro passes fleetingly through his mind. 

 

_ Damnit. _

 

Black  _ did _ say they'd make sure Lance would remain vigilant in the search for Shiro- but hopefully their loyalty for their old Paladin wouldn't interrupt her bond with her new one. 

 

_ It's okay, Black. We'll get him back soon.  _

 

(Lance has the feeling he'd be saying that a lot in the near future.) 

 

With that, he activates the Lion and smooths his hands over the controls. 

 

_ If I'm lucky, at least the Lion controls will stay the same _ , he thinks.

 

“Everyone ready?” He says over the comms, grateful to hear his own voice echoing in the cockpit. 

 

A chorus of affirmative crackles out over the comms, followed by a soft ‘yes’ from Allura a beat late. 

 

“Let's get out there, then.” Lance says, and takes off in the Black Lion. 

 

Well, more accurately, he inches out of the Castle in the Black Lion. The Lion’s  _ feel-  _ how they maneuver and fly- is, similar to everything else about them, sluggish and heavy, like Lance is dragging weights around with him. He could swear that flying the Lion is taking more physical strength than Blue does as the other Lions rally behind him in the depths of space outside the Castle, glinting in the light of the system’s star. 

 

“You okay, Lance?” Comes Pidge’s curious voice. The Green Lion tilts towards Black. 

 

“Yeah, just- um, just getting a feel for the stick.” Lance answers, burying his ever increasing uneasiness under mountains of fake confidence. 

 

“How are you, Allura?” Keith asks, and Lance holds back from scowling. 

 

_ Even if it's petty, at least Keith is engaging more with the team.  _

 

“I'm- I’m alright. I've never flown a Lion before, but- but it's quite simple, really. Blue is very patient with me.” The Princess answers. 

 

Lance feels a pang of fondness for his Lion-  _ old Lion? _ \- as he steers his attention back to the group. 

 

“Listen up, Team. Let's give Coran a show, okay? Just like we practiced- let's form Voltron!” 

 

They do not, as it is, form Voltron. The sequence starts simple, but as most things Lance has experienced lately, Keith ruins it close to the end. 

 

Forming Voltron has always been a strenuous task of unity in mind and Lion- the five Paladins have adapted to feeling each others’ presence and occasionally emotions in the middle of battle, like a more complicated mind meld. They also reach out from their own Lion to the rest of the pride, making ten whole sentient minds that must form one- add this to the pressure and adrenaline of battle, and defending the Universe is suddenly no picnic. 

 

But the Paladins have, in their time in space, adapted to the strain of this formation, learned how to work it best. Or at least they had learned, up until now. 

 

Lance feels more than hears the giant Lions click into place above and below him. Allura comes first; whether that’s intentional on her part or not, Lance doesn't know. Her mind feels firm and stressed, similar to Shiro’s, but there’s a lot more lurking under there that Lance can't quite make out. 

 

Pidge and Hunk flow in easily, like old times- the daring, scalding bravery of the Green Paladin combines effortlessly with the golden support and optimism of the Yellow, making Lance feel better than he has in days. 

 

Lance inputs himself of course, visualizing the head. He doesn't know what his mind feels like to the others, but he hopes it’s not too revealing of what emotions plague him at night. 

 

Keith’s mind is what interrupts the process. 

 

Lance and the other Paladins reach out for it, but they all recoil when it skirts against their edges- Keith is hot, broiling anger and bitter resentment. He's poorly concealed envy and borderline hatred. He’s… he’s… 

 

_ Pain. Raw pain.  _

 

Voltron falls apart quickly after that. 

 

“Whoa…” Hunk says.

 

“What was that?” Pidge says quietly, inviting Keith to explain himself. 

 

Lance takes the initiative to open a channel with Keith, so he can see the Red Paladin.

 

“Keith…?” Lance says, eyeing Red’s cockpit. 

 

For some reason, Keith looks very small as he hunches over in his chair, helmet dangling in one hand as the other hides his face. 

 

Lance doesn't really know how to feel- should he help? Should he let Keith work through it alone? What is ‘it’?

 

“Should we try again?” Allura says, emotionless. 

 

Lance takes one last look at Keith before closing the channel abruptly, aware of the weird, aching hole in his gut. 

 

“No, let's take a break. We’ll spend the rest of the day training onboard the ship, yeah?” 

 

Lance is met with some weak confirmations. 

 

“We’ll get Voltron tomorrow, I know it. It just takes some getting used to.” 

 

\--

 

As soon as they land, Keith diverts for his room. 

 

Lance catches him just before he enters. 

 

“Keith- Keith!” He says as he puts his booted foot in the door. 

 

The Red Paladin peeks out of the dark room with anger- but it quickly morphs into surprise. 

 

“What?” Lance says. “Is there something on my face?” 

 

Keith shakes his head, still wide-eyed. “Your armor changed color.” 

 

Lance feels the shock hit him as he looks down at himself- and sure enough, his blue Paladin armor has become a thick shade of black, just like Shiro’s used to be. 

 

He can't help but smile cooly, looking back up. “Well, would you look at that.” 

 

Keith’s eyes narrow again, and he pulls the door back to slam it on Lance’s foot. 

 

“Ow!- hold on- Keith, I just wanna talk.” Lance says, now with his whole leg in the doorway. 

 

“About what?” Keith says, irritated. 

 

“About today- can I come in, please?” 

 

“No.”

 

“Can you at least stop crushing my leg?” 

 

“No.” 

 

“Fine,” Lance huffs, perfectly willing to do this right here. “What happened today? We felt some seriously strong stuff from you.” 

 

Keith’s face is half hidden by the shadows of his room as he snarls. “Don't fucking worry about it.”

 

“It's my job to worry about it, Keith. I'm-” 

 

“You're not Shiro.” Keith says sternly. 

 

Lance pauses for a moment. “Yes, I know that. I was gonna say ‘I'm your friend and it's my job to worry about you.’” 

 

“Isn't friendship supposed to be mutual? Because this isn't.” Keith says. 

 

Lance sighs exasperatedly. “Are you really just gonna-” 

 

_ Black Paladin. Think.  _

 

“Um, I mean. If not your friend, then I'm at least your ally. If you're hurt, I'm hurt, because I need you there to back us up. I want to help you vent some of those pent up emotions, yeah?” 

 

“Hey!” Keith says, fake cheerful, “No.” 

 

He tries to slam the door again, but Lance’s femur holds strong. So Keith takes the natural course and slams the door six more times in rapid succession, not once hesitating. 

 

Pain starts shooting up Lance’s leg instantly, but he ignores it. 

 

_ I should help Keith.  _

 

When his leg doesn't budge after three more slams, Keith rips the door in the opposite direction and shoves Lance back onto his ass in the hallway. 

 

“Just leave me alone, Lance! You're not the Black Paladin, you never will be. I don't need your help, or your leadership, or your- your  _ friendship. _ ” He says, like its acid on the tongue. “Just stay away from me.” 

 

The Red Paladin retreats to boil in the negativity of his darkened room. 

 

Lance, on the other hand, is hurting. Pain is still pulsing out from his leg in hot waves, and Keith’s scimitar words have left a vacuum in his chest. 

 

He heads to his room to get changed, wondering where Shiro is so he can fix all of this. 

 

\--

 

It’s later that evening, after another rocky training session, that Allura calls Lance up to the Bridge, alone. 

 

Reactions to the change of hue in his armor were, while uncomfortable, decidedly positive. Pidge and Hunk have become champions of making Lance feel better about this new gig, and whether they’re faking it or not, Lance is more than grateful. Coran, despite his buckets of knowledge, was astounded to discover that the armor could change colors- he’d never heard anything like it. Allura agreed with him there, clearly perturbed but unwilling to comment. Keith was his normal, angry self, and that was that. Mid-battle with multiple low-level bots on the field, Keith ignored an order from Lance and dodged an attack that hit Hunk instead, sending him flying, and Lance had to end the sequence just to try and scold Keith again. 

 

_ I hope it’s not like this forever,  _ he thinks on his way to the bridge, and he means it- he knows the only real way to fix everything is to find Shiro, but his powers there are more than limited so he’ll have to make due. 

 

He slips past the door silently, blinking at the sight of Allura in her usual gown, typing away at some holographic screens. 

 

“Allura?” He says, dropping his hands into his jacket pockets. “You wanted to see me?” 

 

The Princess looks up, eyes weary, before nodding. “Yes, Lance. I did.” 

 

Lance stops a few feet away from the central controls, nodding awkwardly. “Okay… so what’s up?” He’s not quite sure where the displaced sensation is coming from; his comfort levels in social situations were usually higher than Keith’s Garrison test scores. 

 

“Well, now that we’ve had a few days in training, and you’ve had time to settle with the Black Lion…” She pauses to swallow heavily, “I figured it was time to introduce you to some of the work Shiro used to do-  _ does _ , in here.” 

 

Lance has another ‘I am the Black Paladin’ moment, but for some reason, this really doesn't feel as good as the last few. 

 

Flying a Lion was one thing- he may not be equal to Shiro on the pilot front, but at least they both know how to do that well, something Lance can handle. But working with Allura? Spending free time looking over maps and battle plans? That's a whole new level of leader that suddenly pulls Lance’s broad shoulders taut. 

 

“Um, yeah, I-” he swallows, “yeah, okay. That's a great idea.” 

 

Allura obviously senses Lance’s discomfort, but says nothing. She produces the map of the Universe, darkening the whole room. 

 

“Since the defeat of Zarkon, the Empire has shattered into a plethora of tiny pieces, little factions if you will. Each seems to be controlled by a Galra commander who seeks to claim Zarkon’s throne.” 

 

Lance watches the stars split into dozens of different color coded regions, each with an Empire insignia in its center. “So they're, like, warlords?” 

 

Allura nods. “This intense power struggle is likely due to the Galra’s awareness of Zarkon’s lack of a rightful heir, their lessening fear of the absent Voltron, and the impending fate of the Galran race if the Empire is not reformed quickly.” 

 

“So what's the plan? How do we fight back?” Lance says, clenching his fists in his pockets. 

 

“I'm not sure. Now we're tackling the questions Shiro and I used to- decisions on where to go and who to battle. We could start anywhere with dismantling any sector.” The Princess says, looking at all the holographic diagrams. “Perhaps we should find the weakest Warlord, or the sector with the most resistance from its native people, so we can adjust to forming and fighting with Voltron- without Shiro.” 

 

There’s no bitterness in her tone, prompting Lance to turn to the Princess curiously. The scarcely concealed hurt as she swallows, looking right back at him, makes him see with a jarring epiphany just how affected Allura is by Shiro’s absence. 

 

The new Black Paladin had been so preoccupied with trying to assure himself and keep his relationship with everyone (and Keith) stable that he hadn't even considered how damaging Shiro’s absence had been on the teammates closest to the old Black Paladin. 

 

_ If Hunk disappeared, how would I feel? Maybe all the adversity isn’t so much aimed at me as it is aimed at themselves.   _

 

He steps closer to the Princess. “No. I think we should hit somewhere big and important, like a depot or communications center.” 

 

Allura blinks in surprise. “Why?” 

 

“We need to show the Galra that Voltron is back. They need to know that we’re still to be feared, and we’re still coming for them. And on top of that, maybe we can find some data on where Shiro is located- you never know.” He says bravely, scanning the map for any significant points of interest, because now’s the time to step the hell up.

 

But not a second later, his vision is obscured by snow-white hair and heady warmth, and he realizes with shock that Princess Allura of Altea is actually  _ hugging  _ him. Her grip is strong and desperate around his shoulders, and he thinks about how rarely she must get to show this side of herself- that is, the  _ emotional  _ side. 

 

“Allura?” 

 

His voice is soft, similar to the way he approaches Black in his mind. The Princess pulls back, straightening the wrinkles in her dress, as if wary of showing too much- going too far. There are unshed tears in her eyes, sparkling in the dim lighting. 

 

And if Allura wasn't clearly more emotionally invested in Shiro then everyone had thought, Lance would definitely register this intimate moment as vaguely romantic. 

 

“Lance,” she begins shakily, “Before we continue- I want to thank you for what you said in the training room the other day. You spoke the words I needed desperately to hear. In relation to that, I must apologize for my behavior over the past few days. It's been uncharacteristic of me, and insensitive to the Lions and the Universe as a whole, to be so rude and dismissive of you and your skills. Perhaps I should have paid more attention when you were the Blue Paladin; maybe the Lions’ decisions would not have surprised me as much as it did.” 

 

That comment stings a little, but Lance feels sweeping relief that Allura is saying anything in the first place.

 

The Princess continues. “It’s no secret that Keith and I are the most directly affected by Shiro’s absence, and because of that we’ve regarded you with antagonism and contempt that you don't deserve. I-” 

 

Lance cuts her off with a wave of his hand, for his sake or her’s, he doesn’t know. “Allura, it's okay.” He tries to smile, but it falls a little flat. “I didn't know I'd be here either, and I'm sad about Shiro too. I understand why you acted they way you did- Keith too.”

 

She drags two of her regal palms over her eyes, erasing the traces of emotion there. “Yes, there’s still the matter of Keith and his well being- did you feel his emotions today?” 

 

Lance gives a slow nod in response. “I tried to talk to him after we flew in, but he keeps shutting me out. All he tells me is how unlike Shiro I am.” 

 

A frown splits her face. “Another bad habit we’ll all have to break.” 

 

“Yes- I mean, sure- um.” He stutters, shaking his head. “But don't worry about that. Keith and I were friends before Shiro left. Whether he likes it or not, I’ll fix things with him.” 

 

Silence reigns in the room again as Lance casts his gaze to the stars, floating by lazily. How strange a conversation he’s having- ten minutes ago Lance assumed his significance in the eye of Allura was worth no more than a fly’s- but now he’s here, reconciling, and he can’t help but feel a little bit better about everything- but there’s one more step to take. 

 

“Y’know, I’m sorry too.” He says, capturing her attention once more. 

 

She sniffles. “For what?” 

 

“For, uh- for Blue Paladin Lance. Always leering at you, making dumb comments, trying to court you. It was all so immature- I hope you know I’m a lot more than a cheesy one-liner and finger guns. I think the way you’ve been treating me is fair compensation for that. I brought it upon myself.” 

 

Allura contemplates this for a moment, straightening her back and clearing her throat. “I underestimated you, Lance. You're not the immature youngling I had always thought you were. I’m sorry-” 

 

Lance cuts her off again, this time with a small smile. “Stop apologizing, Allura. It's okay. Let's put the past in the past.”

 

“I’d like that very much.” 

 

It’s obvious that she’s on the fence about it, but after the briefest hesitation she approaches again, wrapping Lance in another firm embrace. 

 

“Now that we’re friends and all, and we’re gonna be in here a lot- you should know that you can always talk to me if you need to. I’m a good listener.” Lance says into the space above her head. She squeezes once before letting go. 

 

“Thank you, Lance.” 

 

“That’s more like it.” He looks back up at the holographic map, eyes alight with determination. “Now, let’s get back to work. Teach me everything.” 

 

Allura smiles for the first time in a long time, and Lance feels accomplished. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmao what'd you think? I kinda felt like Allura, as much as she misses Shiro, would be too strong-willed and logical to keep dragging on Lance forever. She doesn't seem like the kind of person to let emotions get in the way to the point of obstruction.  
> Tell me what you thought in the comments!!! The more I get, the faster chapter 3 (all about Shiro) comes out. Find me at CalicoThunder on tumblr if you wanna chat, and thanks so much for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, remember when I said this chapter would be about Shiro? I lied. huge mixup in accounting.   
> (Thanks to everyone who's left comments on the story so far, it really means the world to me and helps me when i'm in a rut to write more. Now let's check in on our favorite Black Paladin...)

The night before their first mission, Keith has a horrible nightmare. 

 

Lance hears the scream wrench out of Keith’s pale body on the other side of the wall. 

 

_ Do the others not hear it?  _

 

It seems absurd that anything that loud could go unnoticed through the halls- but Hunk’s a heavy sleeper and Pidge probably never sleeps in her room anymore. 

 

Lance gets out of bed, slipping into his robe and slippers, fully intent on actually helping Keith with something and refraining from an argument. 

 

The hallway is silent when he enters. He looks at Keith’s door. 

 

_ All quiet now. _

 

He approaches the door on his tiptoes, as was necessary when dealing with Keith, and presses an ear to the frigid surface. 

_ Nothing. _

 

His knuckles rap gingerly against the metal, ringing hollow. 

 

“Keith?” 

 

There's a long stretch of silence, so Lance assumes the Red Paladin has succumbed to sleep again- but then the door slides open a few inches, and a single, flint-grey eye peers out at Lance. 

 

A sigh, and then, “What do you want, Lance?” 

 

All of the sudden Lance feels rather foolish, having come here to ask  _ Keith _ about his problems. The Red Paladin has been more hostile than the Galra these past few days. In fact, only a lunatic would engage with Keith on a subject as sensitive as this. But Lance is caught between the rock of obligation and the hard place of caring too damn much. 

 

“Hey, Keith. I heard your, um-” 

 

Keith’s bangs fall over his eye as he deflates. If he focuses hard enough Lance can just barely make out Keith’s sleepwear- a simple black tee and some red boxer briefs. 

 

“I'm going to get a snack.” Keith says, shaking his head. He moves to shut his door, but Lance sticks his leg in the way on instinct. 

 

A mistake, seeing as how his bruises from the other day are far from healed and he's not wearing armor this time. 

 

The Black Paladin stumbles back to the middle of the hallway with a yelp of pain, clutching his leg. 

 

Keith just watches, brows knit together. “What's wrong?” 

 

Lance bends over with his lip between his teeth, trying to douse the pain that flickers up and down his nerve endings. “My leg,” he grits out. “From the other day.”

 

Keith seems to consider, realizing that that was his doing, and then promptly shuts himself back inside. 

 

The floor is unwelcoming and mathematically flat when Lance falls ass-first onto it, pain finally subsiding as he rubs around the bruise. His chest feels heavy where Keith ignored him, but if he's honest with himself, he really didn't know what he was expecting when he- 

 

Keith comes out of his room, this time with pants, and offers Lance his hand. 

 

Lance looks at the Red Paladin for a moment- all crazy bed head, half-lidded eyes, and taut mouth- and takes the hand cautiously. Keith yanks him to his feet, and then starts walking towards the kitchen. 

 

“Are you okay?” Lance finds himself whispering, though it hardly matters who hears him. 

 

Keith looks at Lance with narrowed eyes, but nods. “I'm fine. Couldn't sleep.” 

 

His voice his raw and hoarse, likely from the screaming, but Lance doesn't mention it. 

 

The rest of the way to the kitchen is silent, both boys thinking to themselves. Lance has the urge to step as close to Keith as possible, let him know he's  _ here- _ but again, he thinks better of it. Things are too delicate to take a risk like that. 

 

So they walk on. The kitchen is clean and peaceful when they enter; for a moment Lance thinks Keith will actually sit down and talk- but the Red Paladin makes an immediate beeline for the food goo machine. Lance sits on the counter in the middle of the room, feet blocking the oven. Once he has his food, Keith comes to stand next to him, eating slow and quiet. 

 

“I used to drink warm milk when I had nightmares.” 

 

Keith hums. “Never wet the bed?” 

 

“Nah, too cool for that. When I drank it, I would like, feel the warmth spread through me? Like it was going to more than just my stomach. And when I finally got my own room, I'd drink it just to feel-” 

 

He cuts himself off. Keith has been staring curiously, and Lance realizes he's oversharing. 

 

“Just to feel what?” Keith asks around a mouthful of goo. 

 

“To feel better.” He pauses, looking to change the subject. “I like this version of Keith, y’know. Nice, civil Keith. Does he only exist at one in the morning?” 

 

Keith says nothing, but a flash of- of  _ something _ crosses his face and Lance remembers why he's here in the first place. 

 

As Keith puts down his spoon and bowl, Lance reaches out to touch the back of his pale hand. “Keith, you can talk to me-” 

 

The door opens on the far side of the room, and Keith rips his body away from Lance so forcefully that there's a breeze behind him. 

 

“Hi, Allura.” The Red Paladin says, but he's looking at Lance with confusion and a splash of animosity on his face. 

 

“You should both be in bed.” The Princess says as she sweeps into the room. Her nightgown, like her hair, is completely uncaged and free-flowing, beautiful as ever. She squeezes Lance’s shoulder knowingly as she passes. 

 

“Yeah, I was just getting a quick snack.” Keith says, leaving Lance out to dry so he knows where they stand.

 

“You should be asleep too, young lady,” Lance quips, “or you'll be tired at school tomorrow.” 

 

Allura smiles as she pours herself a cup of water, whether to herself or at the joke Lance doesn't know. “We have a big day tomorrow.” 

 

She's looking at Keith when she says it, but it's aimed at Lance. 

 

“Sure do. That's why we should all get some rest.” Keith says, moving for the door. 

 

“But Keith,” Lance says pointedly, “don't you want to stay and chat for a minute? It'll calm your nerves before the mission.” 

 

Keith narrows his eyes unpleasantly, taking a deep breath. “I’d love to, Lance, but I wanna get up early for some last-minute training. Night, Princess.” 

 

Allura waits until the door is shut to turn to the Black Paladin. “What was all that?” 

 

Lance flaps a hand in the air. “I'm not sure, but at least we weren't fighting. I almost had him talking before you came in.” 

 

Allura smiles apologetically. “Your social skills are so precise, you’d think it’s a science.”

 

“Pfft,” Lance says, “Boys are easy. It’s girls that take the most effort to defuse.” 

 

“Is that so?” Allura asks through her teeth. “Does that rule apply universally?” 

 

Lance laughs outright, happy that he and Allura can hang like this. “Oh, absolutely, Princess.” 

 

She giggles behind her hand before grabbing some goo from the machine. “I was serious, though,” she says, bowl in her hand, “you need to rest before tomorrow. Flying a new Lion in action won’t be easy.” 

 

Lance nods. “For either of us.” 

 

“And let’s pray Keith can control himself, should we need Voltron.” she says solemnly.  

 

Lance looks at the door, thoughtful. “One can only hope.” 

 

\--

 

Early the next morning, they’re gathered on the Bridge. It’s time for their first mission. 

 

_ My first mission. _

 

Lance takes a shaky breath as Allura continues the briefing. 

 

“Here, on Isaki Prime, is a huge Galra mining facility. They’ve been using the native Isaki as slaves to mine millions of tons of luxite from the planet’s crust.” Allura highlights the tangerine planet on the map, bringing up its stats. “Because of the metal’s extreme rarity, the security will likely be very heavy.” 

 

“Right. But what exactly are we doing?” Hunk asks. 

 

Lance clears his throat. “We’re not exactly sure. With any luck, there’ll be some data regarding prisoners or slaves in there- maybe Pidge can get in to look for Shiro. If we get something good, we’ll evacuate the facility and blow the place.” 

 

“If we don’t?” says Pidge.

 

“Then we’ll evacuate the slaves and blow the place anyways. A place like this shouldn’t be allowed to operate.” 

 

“If security is heavy won’t that mean reinforcements? Lots of them?” 

 

“Indeed, Keith. Mostly Sentries and Soldiers. They’ll be coming from within the lower levels of the mine, but no cruisers or fighters will appear in orbit- by the time they do, we’ll be safely on our way.” Allura answers, bringing up images of the monstrous facility. It’s a large, circular base, covering what is presumably a hole into the planet’s crust and hundreds of mineshafts.

 

“This is an important facility. There’s not a lot of luxite left in the Universe.” Allura says slowly.

 

“If there’s one way to get the word out that Voltron is back, it’s with this plan.” Lance adds.

 

Keith snorts. “To me, it sounds like we’re going in  _ without _ a plan.” 

 

The Black Paladin sours. “Which is your style, I believe. Or do you like having a plan just so you can ignore it?” he bites back. There’s a glint of something familiar in Keith’s eyes- familiar from long ago- but it goes out like a candle. 

 

“Shiro would have a solid plan by now.” 

 

And just like that, the night before never happened. Lance is hurt, what else is new, but he prepares a retort anyways. He's never one to lie down and take it. 

 

But Hunk interjects. “Well, when we find him we’ll ask. Can we move on, please?” 

 

Lance curses Keith for being so insensitive after what he  _ thought _ was progress, and himself for falling into the old petty habit of fighting like that. Hunk’s brusque transition is more than a wake-up call. “Right. Hunk, you and I are gonna be on escort duty. With the biggest Lions, we’ll be running prisoners to the landed Castle the whole time. Keith, you’re infiltrating with Pidge- you two are the stealthiest, and specialized in closer combat. Snatch as much data as you can before all the slaves are free. Allura will be flying Blue around as a distraction and extra firepower. Any qualms with that?” 

 

For the most part, the team is wearing the same faces of grave determination that they used to wear when they briefed for missions- but Keith looks exceedingly agitated and Allura is very, very nervous. 

 

“Suit up.”

 

\--

 

Isaki Prime is one of the more beautiful planets Voltron has ever visited. The land is blanketed in tall, thin grass, the color of the sun, while a deep purple appears on many of the trees and foliage. The tropical planet has large lakes and seas in every direction, making up more than eighty percent of the surface- and the water is burnt orange, like it’s boiling, so the whole world appears to be bathed in sunset. 

 

Lance adds it mentally to the list of places to vacation when the war is over. 

 

The Castle lands a few miles out from the facility. 

 

Sitting in Black, Lance visualizes his plan working. All the moving parts complement each other, become one. That’s what success looks like. 

 

_ It’s an easy mission. Just free the slaves, shoot the place up, and leave. Easy peasy.  _

 

He takes a deep breath, and then, “Let’s go, Team Voltron.” 

 

He pushes Black out of the hangar and into the amarillo sky, arching her toward the base in the distance. 

 

The Lion is understandably uneasy in the base of Lance’s mind, but they’re also somewhat satiated, at the prospect of finding a lead on Shiro and just getting things done. Lance can agree with that. 

 

The four Lions fly behind him in perfect formation-  _ fuck I’m the Black Paladin, holy shit _ \- as they finally arrive at the base. 

 

“The slaves should all be in their quarters right now. There’s just shy of six hundred of them in there, so you’ve got some time to move, Pidge.” Lance says.

 

“Copy that.” 

 

“The quarters hang from the roof of the dome, and the data centers are a few layers below- so let’s land there, and Keith can cut us an emergence hole. Allura, attack on my signal.” 

 

“Alright.” 

 

“Let’s do this!”

 

The base is a lot bigger up close, meaning a lot of resistance and a lot of work to do. Lance can already tell it’ll be a grueling couple of hours, shuttling those people back and forth- but someone has to set them free and show the Galra just how Voltron feels about them, Zarkon or not. 

 

As soon as the Lions enter the base’s airspace, zooming towards the dome, Allura branches off and aims Blue at the outer rim of the base, near the surface of the planet, in order to draw some guards away from the focal point of the evacuation efforts. 

 

“Hit it, Allura.” Lance says, and the Blue Paladin opens fire. “Let’s land on the dome, guys- watch the surface, take them down easy.”

 

The wind whips at Lance’s gaunt body when he steps out of the Lion. He yells over the sound of Allura’s laser fire, “Keith, cut our way in.” 

 

The Red Paladin draws his sword and, rather elegantly, cuts a large hole in the roof, ten by ten feet or so. There’s a din below as a few Isaki look up from their cell in shock, and then the Paladins are jumping in. 

 

“People of Isaki Prime!” Lance says. There’s a dozen or so in this large chamber. “We are the Paladins of Voltron, and we’re here to set you free. Do as we say so we can get you and your families to safety.” 

 

The Isaki are a tall people, and because of their photosensitivity, cover most of their bodies in ruddy, worn cloth. Their faces are half obscured by the dark, but Lance can still see the fear and reluctance on their blue-skinned expressions. 

 

He turns to Hunk. “Get these ones to your Lion, I’ll start busting cells.” Hunk nods, goading the Isaki into using a bunk bed as a way to climb out of the hole. 

 

“Yeah, there you go.” The Yellow Paladin says, helping an alien up and out. 

 

“Thank you, thank you so much. We won’t forget this.” A particularly tall Isaki says as they pass Lance, recognizing him as the leader. 

 

Lance smiles wearily. “Of course.”

 

Once the last of the Isaki are in Yellow, Hunk takes off efficiently, warning Coran of incoming refugees. Lance turns to the remainder of his team. 

 

“Keith, Pidge- Let’s get out there. Take out any resistance on your way down to the data, okay?” Lance says eagerly, fingers itching to grab his bayard. “I’ll get the next group of prisoners.”

 

Keith opens the door to the hallway with a powerful kick, silently agreeing, while Pidge brings out her wrist-mounted holo-screen. 

 

“The guards are moving in the lower levels.” She says.

 

“Stay safe, then.” Lance says as he steps into the hallway. It’s almost drenched in blackness; the lights have been dimmed to a dull red to signify a facility-wide lockdown. Keith and Pidge begin making their way to the elevator at the end of the hall, following Pidge’s map, while Lance finds the next cell door.

 

Once he does, however, he notices a kink in the plan.    
  


The cell doors are nothing more than indents along the wall- no lock mechanisms or holo-screens, or even windows to communicate with the prisoners. 

 

“Ah shit.” He curses into his helmet, mind running a mile a minute. There’s scorch marks and old stains lining the walls wherever he points his gaze, but other than that, he can’t even see a master lock switch. 

 

“What is it, Lance?” comes Hunk’s voice, concerned. 

 

“Allura, our data was faulty- these cell doors don’t have locks or handles. I can’t get in.” 

 

“Just knock the door down.” Keith says. 

 

“I might hurt the prisoners.” 

 

“Well,” comes Allura, voice strangled, “The sentries here have some heavy duty blasters. I’ll need assistance soon.” 

 

Lance knocks a fist to his head a few times, jiggling his thinking gears- he needs to come up with a plan, and he needs one  _ now.  _

 

_ Shiro would have a plan by now. Two or three, actually. _

 

His mind speaks to him in the voice of Keith- but he shoves it down and away. It won’t help him here- he just needs to wing it. 

 

“Lance, we need a plan.” Pidge urges. 

 

“Okay, okay, okay so- Pidge, Keith, I’m coming down to help you. Pidge, once you’re at a computer you can open the doors, right?” 

 

“Of course, but I’ll need time.” 

 

“Not something that’s infinite, at the moment” Allura says.

 

Lance continues. “Okay- Hunk, assist Allura when you get back- we’ll see if you guys can take out as many of the infantry as possible.” 

 

“Got it.”

 

“Once these cells are open, we’ll all start shuttling prisoners to the Castle. Let’s move!” 

 

He books it down the hallway to where Pidge and Keith had disappeared just moments before, slamming the elevator button upon arrival. His least favorite levels in video games were always time-sensitive.

 

The elevator’s descent is slow, but steady- the opposite of his heartbeat. He’s always jacked up during a mission but this? This is some cardiac arrest shit. 

 

“Lance, when those doors open, be careful. The sentries are gunning into the hallway non-stop.” Pidge warns him, voice accompanied by the sound of laser fire and burning metal. 

 

He takes out his bayard. The rifle is still heavy and cumbersome, but he hefts it all the same-  _ hopefully I can use it in these tight-ass hallways.  _

 

He begins to wonder if a sniper rifle- as awesome as it looks- is versatile enough for a bayard form. He's about two seconds into deciding to file an application for his old bayard back when the Black Lion interrupts him with a presses, irritated growl. 

 

He exhales hotly. 

 

_ You giving me attitude isn't gonna help here, Black. _

 

The Lion conveys images of his weapon.

 

_ What about it? _

 

There's a picture of the button he'd noticed when the bayard first changed- AUTO/SEMI- and then another growl. As if Black was saying,  _ Come on, understand me.  _

 

Lance spares a quick look at the screens above the elevator buttons- he can't be far from the bottom floor now- so he figures  _ fuck it _ and presses the button firmly. 

 

His free hand flies up to protect his face as the sniper rifle lightens and transforms into something more compact- the barrel falls away and the stock shortens until he's holding a straight-edged and squared-off assault rifle- just like he's used to. 

 

“Oh, hell yeah-”

 

The doors of the elevator open, and purple laser fire sprinkles around him immediately. His shield comes up on instinct, and then he's staring at four sentries at the end of the hall, firing non-stop. 

 

Pidge and Keith are nowhere to be seen- hopefully they're safely behind cover. Lance’s gun, regardless of weight, is useless unless he's got two arms and a good shot. 

 

“Keith, Pidge. I just exited the elevator. I'm pinned down by four sentries, can't shoot ‘em without two hands.” 

 

“Copy that. We’re already at the server room with all the data, almost finished.” Pidge replies. 

 

“Don't forget those cell doors- Keith, come clear these sentries for me.” 

 

The full-body shields are a lucky accessory, but he's still beginning to feel the sting of the constant laser fire. A quick survey of the hall reveals no cover whatsoever, meaning until Keith gets here there’s no way out. 

 

“Keith? I need you to come slice holes into these guys.” 

 

There's silence on the comms.

 

“Pidge, where’s Keith?” 

 

“Just reroute this to… that and… confirm… got it. All the cells are open, all the data is with me. Keith is- not here?” 

 

The words fall flat as Pidge presumably looks around the room, finding no Red Paladin. 

 

“Keith, I need some fucking communication.” Lance snaps into his helmet, already fearing the worst- Keith could be trying to pull more shit over the Black Paladin’s head. 

 

_ Or he's hurt.  _

 

Lance shakes the thought off as rapid footsteps echo in the hall. 

 

Pidge comes up behind the sentries with a fearsome battle cry, slicing two in the back with deadly speed. It's enough of a distraction for Lance to drop his shield and ready his weapon, firing a familiar few rounds into the remaining sentries with his usual sparkling accuracy. 

 

Once the bots are down, Keith’s voice comes crackling through the comms system. 

 

“Sorry, I was checking the mineshaft for any straggling prisoners.” 

 

A million things about the sentence make Lance want to go berserk- but Pidge sees his tension and grabs his wrist, shaking a stern ‘no’ into him. 

 

“Okay. Come back here, we'll head up together.” The Black Paladin says through gritted teeth. Pidge says nothing. 

 

Keith arrives wordlessly a few minutes later, barely acknowledging his teammates. 

 

“How's it going, Hunk? Allura?” Lance asks as they make their way back to the elevator, stepping over broken sentries. 

 

“We’re fine. I think they're running out of guards, honestly.” Hunk says, and Allura hums agreement.

 

“We’ll land upon the dome and begin collecting the Isaki.” 

 

“Yes ma'am, we'll meet you up there.” Lance answers. 

 

The elevator ride is short and tense, Keith and Lance edging as far away from each other as physically possible. Pidge stands between them like a pendulum, trying to figure them out- but the doors rush open on the top floor, and everything falls to shit. 

 

Their Paladin suits detect the toxic gas before they do, covering their mouths with full apparatus for clean air. 

 

Lance’s confusion lasts a few short seconds before he passes the first open cell. Three Isaki lay inside, dead, with wisps of brown gas twirling over their bodies. A turn of head reveals the same fate for every cell on the floor, each containing more and more dead citizens. Poignant toxic gas still pollutes the air of the hall when Hunk and Allura step into it from the impromptu exit Keith had made. 

 

“Oh god.” Pidge says. 

 

It's impossible to describe. There's a ruining nausea in Lance’s stomach, rippling across his systems in tsunami like waves. His fingers twitch and tremble with- with  _ everything,  _ every disgusting emotion he's ever felt piled into the sight of hundreds of dead innocents. 

 

He can't stop the thought, the harrowing thought,  _ I did this. This is my fault.  _

 

“What the fuck happened?” Keith says brusquely, trying to hide his disgust. It shines in his eyes anyways.

 

“I’d imagine it’s a defense mechanism if the doors were ever forced open unconventionally.” Allura comments. Hunk is already green in the face, shuddering with every breath.

 

“But I- I hacked into their system. I opened it from the inside. How could it have…” Pidge says, curling in on herself. 

 

There’s so  _ many.  _ The hallway of prison cells spans the whole diameter of the base- meaning room after room is full of dead Isaki. The entire floor. Just shy of six hundred lives lost, because Voltron screwed up. 

 

“Jesus- we have to-” Lance starts, but he has to stop and swallow down a lump of sickening dread. “We have to bury them.” 

 

“Lance,” Allura says after a brief, pregnant silence, “we don’t have time. The Galra will send ships to investigate. If we stay, we’ll put the rest of the planet in danger as well. Then even more innocent lives will be lost.” 

 

She’s speaking from experience, Lance knows. They’ve had botched missions before, but even before that- ten thousand years ago- he’s sure Allura has seen something like this. The full frontal terror of the lengths the Galra are willing to go.

 

“I don’t care. I’ll take care of the Galra myself, but there’s no way I’m leaving these people and their families like this.” 

 

It’s as firm a disposition as he can take at the moment. Keith refuses to look anywhere other than up and away, as if he could hide from the carnage that the Paladins have inadvertently caused. 

 

_ I’ve caused. _

 

“Lance, she’s right. If we destroy the base with the Castle’s guns, the bodies will be cremated at least.” Pidge comes in logically, moving towards Hunk. She comforts him. “It’s better than nothing.”

 

“I already said, I’m not leaving without burying them.” 

 

“Lance.” Keith imposes his too-strict voice. “It’s not practical. Let’s just detonate and move on.”

 

“What about the survivors? What do we tell them?” Lance challenges. He doesn’t know when he started crying, but a tear falls down his cheek. 

 

“The truth. We’ll ask if there’s anything we can do, anyway to assist them in rebuilding. Maybe they know of more places like this on Isaki Prime. We may have more chances to save their people.” Allura says, trying to reassure the distressed Black Paladin. 

 

“These people don’t get another chance. We’ve failed them.” Lance drones. Without another word he concedes to his team, running to the exit and onto the dome. 

 

His feet take him halfway to Blue before he remembers which Lion he belongs to. 

 

\--

 

“I’m- I’m not sure I understand. I thought… rescue?” 

 

The Isaki stands in the middle of the pod hangar, where his eleven comrades have all loaded their limited belongings onto a ship. 

 

“When we opened the other cell doors, it triggered a defense mechanism that flooded the cell block with toxic gas. I’m… We’re sorry.” Allura says, and Lance has never been happier to let her take the wheel on a diplomatic situation like this. 

 

Of course, informing the Isaki of the destruction of their friends and families just before they set out to return to their village was a far cry from diplomatic. All Lance knows is that he wouldn’t be able to speak the sentences without choking on the weight of the words. 

 

“Our people…” The Isaki is shocked, hurt centered in his opaque eyes. The rest of his face remains covered by his clothing, making it even harder to tell how he feels. “We had families in there. My children. Mika’s mother…” He turns toward the loaded pod, where Coran is delivering the same truth to the rest of the Isaki with solemn timidity. 

 

The other people appear much less put together. There’s weeping and shuddering, a few collapse against others, one sinks to the floor- Lance couldn’t relate more to what they’re feeling. 

 

_ This is on me.  _

 

“We didn’t mean for this. We had every intention of bringing your people to safety.” Allura says, ever-composed in her regal grace. 

 

“Intentions do not restore the lives of my kin, Princess.” The Isaki says, visibly straining to speak without joining his brethren on the floor. 

 

Lance expects her to break after a line like that, for that’s the hardest truth of all. It doesn’t matter who or when or how, the facts are six hundred people are dead and Voltron was there when it happened. Allura is not defeated. 

 

“No, but perhaps assistance will. Voltron is more than willing to supply the Isaki- those here and planetside- with any construction materials, sustenance, or armaments we can spare. All we ask in return is your allegiance against the Galra. The Galra who enslaved and murdered your families in cold blood.” 

 

It’s as blatant a reminder of the day’s events as Lance can think of- as if Allura is trying to shift the focus away from what was and onto what is. 

 

“I appreciate your offer, Princess.” The Isaki says, unconvinced. 

 

These people would be returning to a planet with the charred remains of their loved ones buried under Galra rubble. A planet with memories and lessons from a time of better life constantly in their way. They’d be rewriting their own history. Running from their past. From today. 

 

_ And it’s all my fault. All of it. If I had done better research, or moved faster, or just opened the cells one by one- everyone would be alive. My fault. My fault. My-  _

 

“This is my fault.” It comes out before he can stop it, loud enough for everyone in the hangar to hear. All eyes fall on him, a sensation becoming more and more synonymous with the color of his armor. 

 

“The death of the Isaki prisoners is a burden that Voltron bears on its shoulders. And as the leader of Voltron, it falls on my shoulders. Our offer still stands. Take everything you want and fly the pod wherever you think is best. You don’t have any obligations to us. Today, we failed you. I failed you-” His voice cuts off as he turns away, but not before seeing the satiated, grim reflection of the Isaki’s eyes flick over him. 

 

He walks briskly to the door, where Keith has been stationed silently as the team sees the Isaki away, and towards his room. 

 

_ No more half-cocked speeches,  _ he thinks, but doesn’t know where the rest of the sentence is headed.  _ Do I talk to Black and try to quit? Or get in a pod and run?  _

 

He’s getting used to walking the dark, hollow, halls of the Castle alone. He’s becoming nocturnal. He’s changing. The air in his room is cold and unfamiliar when he enters. It seeps through his armor and threatens to sap his bones. Bones that creak as he sits on the bed, bones that bend and crack as he removes his armor. He’s resigned to sleeping in his flight suit and letting the turmoil consume his chest. 

 

_ Nothing could mask this pain,  _ he thinks,  _ Nothing can make this better.  _

 

What will the Universe think when they catch wind of this? Voltron’s biggest failure yet, hundreds dead, a Galra victory on paper. So much for ‘Voltron is back’. There’s little hope to be found in any of the extracted data, too, if Pidge’s face was anything to go by as she skimmed through it on their way back to the Castle. 

 

There wasn’t even a sliver of solace in Coran destroying the heinous facility with the Castle’s weapons systems, disintegrating all signs of Galra life in the area.

 

_ Six hundred lives. Six hundred stories, six hundred chances. Six hundred beds and toothbrushes and scarves and chairs and meals and heartbeats and-  _

 

_ -and I murdered them all.  _

 

The stinging void spins on in his chest when he hears noises outside his bedroom door. At first, he’s ninety percent sure Hunk has come to try and decompress with him- the Yellow Paladin has no room in his stomach for death, destruction, and the darker side of this job- but instead, the voices of Pidge and Keith filter through the door. He listens closer. 

 

“This was no victory. Scores of people died and the data was useless.” It’s Pidge, calculative as ever, but there’s an edge to her voice. 

 

“Yes, but it was a victory by way of liberating a planet from the Galra. That was their only facility on Isaki Prime, the survivors confirmed it.” 

 

There’s a long silence. Pidge taps her tiny foot a few times. 

 

“Lance won’t feel that way, Red Paladin.” She says it like an insult. 

 

Keith clears his throat. “Well, if he wants to be a leader, he should take in all perspectives-” 

 

“I really don’t understand how you do it, Keith.” 

 

“... What?” 

 

“How do you close yourself off so brutally like this. One minute you’re seething with rage and doing everything you can to remind him of Shiro, and now you don’t care? Now you want to help?” 

 

“If Shiro were here, those people wouldn’t have died.” 

 

It’s so obviously a deflection, a farce, but the way Keith says it shoots through Lance like a bullet, casing clattering on the floor in the sound of Pidge’s frustrated stomp. 

 

“Good to know that the cost of you caring is six hundred innocent lives, Keith.” Pidge stage-whispers. 

 

“Where are you even getting this from? Why are you attacking me?” 

 

“Because I know you Keith. Wipe that look off our face. Just because Shiro is gone again doesn’t give you free reign to ruin our team. You act like you’re so tough and untouchable but you’re just like the rest of us- scared.” 

 

“Now you’re just reaching, Pidge. I’m not scared.” 

 

“I wish I had a picture of you when we stumbled into that prison block.”

 

“I’m- You’re so- I’m not trying to put myself above you, I just-” 

 

“Refuse to help. You don’t want anything to happen while Shiro’s gone, and now Lance and six hundred Isaki are paying the price for it.” 

 

“Pidge, you sound so insane right now, like you’ve cracked a code or something- And you want Shiro back just as much as I do. Why is that such a bad thing? Suddenly Lance becomes the center stage and now Shiro takes a back seat? What about your own family, Pidge? What about Matt?” 

 

Pidge scoffs. “Don’t even start, asshole. I know what I’m doing. Unlike you, I can manage my problems on an actual basis of emotional and social competence. I’m always looking for the ones I love, but I have to look after this family too.” 

 

“And I’m the bad guy, right? Typical.” Keith’s resolve is weakening. Hopefully Pidge hears as clearly as Lance does that Keith’s insensitivity is almost as empty as the hallway around them.   

 

“You make it that way. You want it that way. And speaking of families, those Isaki still lost all of theirs. Plural.” 

 

“You sound like I-” 

 

“Tell me, Keith. I’d love to know how it went while you were ‘checking the mineshaft for stragglers’.” 

 

There’s an eerie silence in which Keith seems to have been struck. 

 

“I know Lance, too. He’s somewhere right now, curled in on himself, dying because he thinks he killed six hundred innocent people singlehandedly. If we had gotten up the elevator faster, we could’ve saved them. A few slices and bullet holes and we could’ve aired out the room when the gas finally leaked.” 

 

“Pidge-” 

 

“I hope you learned your lesson, Keith. All those families dead because you wanted to make Lance’s life a little harder. To fuck with him. And you know how he feels about family.” There’s heavy footsteps as the Green Paladin starts walking away, and then, “I’m just happy Black didn’t pick you.” 

 

Lance hears Keith collapse in the hallway, hears him shout frustratedly into his sleeve, and hears the nightmares and shuddering breaths Keith will be having tonight. He’s not sure what haunts him more- the validity behind his hunch that Keith was messing with him on duty, or the scarily tactless and pointed approach of Pidge’s words, or the faint echo of her support in his head. 

 

He smashes his face into the pillow to drown out any oncoming sobs- he’ll be joined with Keith in subconscious hell tonight. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, huh? Just to be clear, Keith pretended to check the mineshaft because he wanted to scare and distress Lance, like he did in training in chapter two. Only this time, it came with very real consequences. Maybe it'll make the asshole rethink some stuff, eh?   
> Comments and Kudos physically lift me out of bed every day, and feel free to stop by at calicothunder.tumblr.com if you wanna chat.  
> (p.s. I promise chapter four will be out in less time than this one.) :)))


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the amazing comments. It's really what keeps me writing this story and my other wips. Every comment is appreciated and read many, many times!!

_ Lance wakes up in his bedroom. The first thing he sees is the poster stuck to his ceiling, a map of all the constellations laid out in order. He thinks of them. The room, his room, is painted blue, like the sea. There's white breaking waves at the corners of the walls and in the rickety furniture. His bed rocks like a boat when he sits up.  _

 

_ His blankets slip off and reveal his black pajama pants, baggy and loose in the Veradera heat. The ceiling fan spins slowly. He gets out of bed.  _

 

_ Everything is the same. His desk, his lamp, his game consoles. It's all like he left it.  _

 

_ Left it.  _

 

_ His mother calls him downstairs, and tears prickle his eyes.  _

 

_ “Mama?” He calls, stepping into the hallway. “Mama!”  _

 

_ “What?” Her voice comes up, hard as ever, and he dashes down the stairs.  _

 

_ “Mama, I’m home!” He says as he peels into the kitchen, swollen with love. She’s holding a frying pan over the stove as he grabs her waist tight from behind.  _

 

_ “Home from where?” She asks, confused.  _

 

_ “From-”  _

 

_ He stops. Thinks. Realizes that maybe he should save the story for another time and place, and for now, he should be happy. “Nowhere. I just had a bad dream.”  _

 

_ “Well, you’re awake now, mijo. Safe and sound. Go wake your brother for breakfast.”  _

 

_ He does. The family has a wonderful breakfast. Lance hears his father and brother talking about soccer, feels his baby sister tug on his leg when she wants something, sees blue sky and green grass and a pizza shack down the road when he looks out the kitchen window.  _

 

_ The family dog runs out the back door and he’s following, flourishing in the heat of the sun on his bare shoulders. He closes his eyes and feels the sun filter through the trees and when he opens them, he’s on the beach a block away with his friends.  _

 

_ “Lance!” one calls, “Lance, let’s have a chicken fight in the water!”  _

 

_ He smirks. “You know I’ll win. No matter who’s shoulders I’m on, I’ll always win.”  _

 

_ They roll their eyes at his cocksure demeanor. “You’ll never grow up, will you Lance?”  _

 

_ “Why would I? This,” he splashes water at them, ocean water that he’s suddenly standing in, “is much better.”  _

 

_ They laugh and run and Lance feels lighter than he has in years. No amount of saving planets can make him float like Veradera Beach.  _

 

_ The clouds roll in while he’s playing underwater tag. He comes up for breath and the waves are crashing against the shore, rain and wind whipping at his face as he tries to stay afloat. The sky is an ugly brown, billowing and wispy until he recognizes it with the most painful rupture of dread- _

 

_ And then he’s at home, brown clouds covering every surface of every room.  _

 

_ And then he sees his siblings and father dead on the floor, gas lingering in their lungs.  _

 

_ And then he sees his mother, sitting at the head of the kitchen table, hands folded neatly as she takes a deep breath.  _

 

_ “Mama-!”  _

 

_ “Why couldn’t you save us, Lance? Why did you let us die?”  _

 

_ And then she dies.    _

 

_ And then Lance lives.  _

 

\--

 

He wakes with a silent scream in his throat, arms flung out and thrashing as if he’s trying to tread water. His room- his  _ real  _ room- is dark. 

 

With no grasp on how long he slept or where the Castle lies now, he rises from bed, shaken. So much seems to be going wrong lately- so much falling apart- he wonders if  _ this _ is the real nightmare. 

 

Faceless bodies pass through his memory as he finally changes into his regular clothes. His flight suit is rough and crusted with sweat as it peels off his skin and into a pile on the floor. Queasy feelings stir in his gut. Six hundred feelings to be exact. Then, he remembers Keith. 

 

The Red Paladin’s conversation with Pidge last night, damning in its contempt, proves that Keith is still untrusting of Lance- still a mess- and now there’s been real collateral for his actions. 

 

Lance doesn’t know if he should be more relieved or destroyed by the fact that it wasn’t, in fact, all his fault. 

 

_ The blame doesn’t matter. The Isaki are still dead.  _

 

The logical Black Paladin in him suggests going out and reprimanding Keith, rallying the team, and trying again. The Blue Paladin demands he stay put and bathe in the negative wash of failure. 

 

And before he can decide which path to take, Hunk bowls into his room, followed by Coran. 

 

_ Oh god,  _ Lance thinks,  _ can I handle anymore stress?  _

 

“Lance, we gotta talk.” Hunk says, and  _ no, I don’t think I can.  _

 

“Hunk, I don’t feel like a pity party right now- I want to be alone.” he says simply, sitting square on his bed. 

 

“We’re not here for that, my boy,” Coran says, closing the door behind him, “we just want to address this matter with Keith.” 

 

“What matter with Keith?” 

 

“The matter of him trying to subvert everything you do as Black Paladin.” The phrase is so political that Lance wants to laugh. Their lives would make good stories if they ever got back to Earth. 

 

“Can we not do this now, Hunk? I’m tired.” 

 

“You just slept for twelve hours, and there isn’t really a buffer period on this.” 

 

“You  _ do  _ have a Universe to save.” Coran says. 

 

_ Is this what it means to be Black Paladin? Double-teamed by the only people on this ship who care whether I live or die. _

 

The term ‘Paladin’ is becoming much like ash on Lance’s tongue. 

 

“Okay, then, talk. What is it?” 

 

“Pidge and Keith had an argument this morning, at the breakfast table.” 

 

“Fuck, what time is it? No one woke me?” 

 

“And now we all know what Keith did on Isaki-Prime as well as why, and Pidge refuses to talk to him.” 

 

“And I have to do damage control?” 

 

Coran nods. 

 

“Look guys, Pidge is one thing- I can handle her- but Keith? I’ve been trying to crack him for weeks and he just won’t talk to me. He doesn’t want to. I can’t make him fix his attitude.” 

 

“Well,” Hunk says, “if this morning is anything to go by, neither can a botched mission. I think he really hurt her feelings.” The Yellow Paladin looks remorseful as he recalls. 

 

“Lance,” Coran starts, sitting at the foot of the bed, “I know that what happened hurt. But this team is falling apart, and if we don’t have Voltron-” 

 

“Then it’ll be hundreds of millions more just like the Isaki, I know, I know.” Lance says. A long, deep sigh courses through him. 

 

“I have to return to the Bridge- Allura and I were scouting our next target while you slept. It seemed best not to wake you.” 

 

“Yeah… thanks, Coran. After I talk to the Paladins I’ll be right up.” Lance says, and when Hunk offers a hand to pull him out of bed, he takes it. 

 

“Very well.” Coran says, and then he slips out of the room. 

 

Hunk doesn’t leave while Lance gets changed- a consequence of being attached at the hip for most of your life is your best friend unphased by the sight of your bare ass- but he does twiddle his thumbs anxiously and pace around the room. 

 

Lance, dressed in his usual get up, heads into the bathroom to freshen up. 

 

“Coran sure does do a lot for us.” Hunk says absently. 

 

“Yeah,” Lance says, “he does. It takes a lot out of him.” 

 

“Does it?” 

 

Lance pops his head around the corner of the door with half of a face mask on. “Of course. The man has aged like a decade since we started all this.” 

 

“He’s so cheerful and optimistic all the time. How does he do that?” 

 

Lance shrugs, even though Hunk can’t see him. “He doesn’t even sleep as far as I know. Just cleans those fucking pods.” 

 

Hunk’s little chuckle is enough to reel the heartstrings a little closer to the surface of the dark pit in Lance’s gut. 

 

It’s silent until Lance steps out of the bathroom, rejuvenated on the outside to his normal glory, save for the bags under his eyes. “Alright, Hunk, let’s find Pidge.” 

 

“I think you should go alone.” Hunk’s face looks solemn and very un-Hunk. 

 

“What? Why?” 

 

“I don’t think her- or Keith- will be too happy to see me. During the fight this morning I got so freaked out that I just kinda- kinda screamed at them?” 

 

Lance softens, stepping towards his friend. “I understand the frustration. What exactly did you say?” 

 

“I’d rather not repeat it,” Hunk says, mouth sour, “but it was bad. They kept yelling about family and Shiro and I just- just snapped at both of them about theirs.” 

 

Lance places a trembling hand on Hunk’s back. “Alright, I’ll talk to them. We might need a mushy little group session in order to work it all out.” 

 

“What a mess this has become, huh?” Hunk smiles, watery and weak, and Lance’s faith dips a little lower. 

 

_ If Hunk is upset, the sun will stop shining.  _

 

\--

 

Where else could Pidge possibly be if not the Green Lion’s hangar? She’s bent over a project when Lance arrives, cursing at it with vehemence usually reserved for swarms of Galra fighters. And while the Black Paladin still feels like crawling through a black hole and hiding for eternity, he knows Pidge is worth too much to let her fall apart. 

 

“Any luck with finding Shiro?” He goes the easy route as he approaches her. 

 

“No.” She grunts firmly, typing away at a screen hovering above the small metal box. “Or my family, before you ask.” 

 

“You need more data?” 

 

“I need more skill. I’m not good enough to crack-” 

 

“Now stop right there young lady.” Lance says. _God forbid someone else on this ship feel inadequate._ “There’s absolutely nothing you can’t do with a computer. If there’s anyone who can find a single person in this whole fucking Universe, it’s you.” 

 

Pidge looks up at him slowly, face neutral. “You sound like him.” She whispers before diving back into the screen. 

 

“Must be the Lion.” Lance says. “I don’t make up all these speeches for fun, y’know. It’s true. It’s how I feel.” 

 

“And now you sound like yourself again.” she says. 

 

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” 

 

She shrugs. 

 

“I ought to ask Keith, then, huh?” 

 

She tenses, waits, and then grabs the little box and chucks it against the wall. The clang echos around them. “I knew you wanted something. Coran sent you, didn’t he?” 

 

Lance holds a palm up, leaning against the edge of her table. “Chill, Pidge. Hunk sent me, actually. And he wants you to know he’s sorry for breaking down this morning-” 

 

“Breaking down? Please, he fucking lost it. I’ve never seen him so angry.” 

 

“I’ve never seen anyone on this ship act like they do now. Hunk’s hurting people’s feelings, you and Keith are cold as stone, Allura is visibly distraught, and Coran is wearing down. Welcome to life post-Shiro.” 

 

“So you think a few fancy conversations and tender love and care will just fix everything.” 

 

“Nope. Bringing Shiro back will fix everything, and the only person who’s gonna do that is sitting right in front of me.” 

 

“You can drop the hero act with me, Lance. I’ll call your bullshit. You and Shiro never got along. You can’t actually want him back.”

 

Lance rolls his eyes. “And here we fucking go again. Why does everyone think I hate Shiro so much? First Black, then Keith, and now you?” 

 

“Hunk’s told me about all the shit talking you used to do.” 

 

“That was before Shiro fucking vanished into thin air.” 

 

“Hmm,” Pidge says, “So what does that tell you? If you only care once he’s gone, do you really care?” 

 

Lance knows Pidge is trying to get him to dig himself a hole, so he refrains from his answer- ‘I want him back so I can stop doing things like trying to hold a whole team together’- and tries something more tame. 

 

“Well, all this talk isn’t getting him back, nor is it fixing the team. I came here to talk about you and Keith this morning.” 

 

Pidge narrows her eyes at him. “What about it?” 

 

“Fix your issues with him, so we can form Voltron.” 

 

“How do you know we can’t?” 

 

“I can feel it on the wavelengths… all the anger and pain. It’s not hard to figure out.” 

 

“Do you even know what he did?” 

 

“I heard you two outside my room last night.” 

 

She takes this information in, staring at Lance blankly. “Then why aren’t you yelling at him for what he did?” 

 

“I’m not yelling at anyone. I’m trying to stop the yelling.” He says, sitting on the table fully. “It’s insane that Keith would do that on mission, and I’m gonna give him as much hell as I can without setting him off, but- but-” 

 

“But what, oh wise Black Paladin Lance. Grace me with your cheesy speeches.” 

 

Whether it’s a joke or not, Lance laughs. He laughs at Pidge’s expression and at his entire life leading up to now. He’s laughing because it’s how he does it. How he survives. 

 

“The Isaki are dead, it’s my fault for leading the mission, Keith’s fault for trying to disrupt it, your fault for hacking the cells, Hunk’s for breathing- it’s all pointless, Pidge.” He says through a point-blank smile that’s gone like a bullet.  “I’ll yell at Keith, sure, but at the end of the day we all made the mistake and we’re all dealing with the loss. It’s like Shiro would say, we can’t save everyone.” 

 

She’s so quiet after that. Lance takes it as his cue to leave. As he exits, he calls, “Play nice, Pidge. We all want the same thing.” 

 

\--

 

Hunk’s assignment was clear- Lance needed to talk to Pidge and Keith. With Pidge hopefully back on the straight and narrow (Lance can never tell with her), the next stop of Lance’s would be Keith. Would be, except Lance doesn’t think his mind can handle two conversations about how bad he is at everything back to back. 

 

If there’s one thing he’s been missing all this time, one thing that always curbed the homesickness and insecurity before Shiro’s disappearance, it’s the presence of a Lion in the back of his head. With Blue, Lance had a fallback. No matter who said what, Blue was always on his side, always there to wrap him in comfort and security and love. She was motherly, in a way, and maybe that’s what has Lance so unhinged. Before Voltron, he had his family, then he had Blue, and now, he has no one to help him cope. 

 

_ At least, no one who’s not already dealing with their own shit. Then again, if the Lions were truly sentient, then technically they have like millennia of shit to cope with.  _

 

Either way, before Lance can handle another fight with Keith (the night in the kitchen is meaningless to him now), he decides to spend some time with his new Lion. 

 

_ It’s time to see what the Alpha is really like.  _

 

“Honey, I’m home!” he calls as he steps into Black’s hangar. Knowing damn well that humor was almost lost on Black, Lance isn’t about to stop being himself. They  _ did _ allow him to pilot them, after all. 

 

He saddles up to their front left paw, all the while reaching out to their presence in the back of his head. It’s daunting and mysterious, unlike Blue’s clarity, but he pushes anyway. 

 

_ Hey, Black. I wanted to some see how you were doing. The search for Shiro is really kicking our butts.  _

 

They growl. 

 

_ I mean, like we’re still going, of course! We’re gonna find him, just you wait, but it’ll take time. I’m trying to help heal these Paladins. It wasn’t just you who lost Shiro, y’know.  _

 

They slip back into stony silence, but there’s a few wisps of curiosity in their mind. The trouble with having melded minds is the inability to hide anything.

 

_ I just want to make sure you know that I have your back. If Blue taught me anything, it’s how to connect with others. I want to do that with you.  _

 

There’s a long pause. Lance blinks. And when he opens his eyes, all he sees is stars. 

 

_ Immediately he knows it’s the same plane where Blue talked to him all those days ago, their temporary goodbye. The stars are under, over and around him in shrouds of light, and before him sits the mighty black lion, purple crescents under their eyes. They lick a paw.  _

 

_ “Here we are, Paladin. My home. This is oft where Shiro came when there was no one else to run to.”  _

 

_ “Amazing…” Lance breathes air so clean it hurts. “Where is it, exactly?”  _

 

_ “You are within my plane of being, where only Lions tread. This is my place during rest.”  _

 

_ “So when we fly the Lions…”  _

 

_ “We are there, with you. And when you do not fly us, we are here.”  _

 

_ “I see.”  _

 

_ “You asked to speak with me. What be your reason?”  _

 

_ “I’m, well, I’m your Paladin now-”  _

 

_ “Temporary Paladin.” She growls.  _

 

_ “Right. Anyway, I just wanted to get closer to you. When we fly you feel so distant, it’s nothing like it was with Blue.”  _

 

_ “Hmm. Almost as if you were not my true Paladin.”  _

 

_ Lance stumbles over his next words. Even Black knows he is inadequate.  _

 

_ “All I want is a chance. I want to be closer with you like I was with Blue. I want a friend.”  _

 

_ “I am no friend. I am the head of Voltron, a feared weapon, and nothing else. My mind is sharpened only for battle.” She flicks her tail distractedly.  _

 

_ “Okay, but I mean- your bond with Shiro. It couldn’t have been this cold, could it? You were there for him, weren’t you?”  _

 

_ “You believe I’m not supporting you, then? I could withdraw my essence from your head altogether, if you prefer.”  _

 

_ Lance backtracks. “No, no! That’s not what I meant. I just, I know you’re hurting right now. You were close with your Paladin. I just want permission to try and help you cope.”  _

 

_ “You wish to comfort a being with a mind older, wiser, and more adept than you can possibly imagine?”  _

 

_ He smiles uneasily. “I’ve been told it’s what I do best.”  _

 

_ “I have no interest in emotional conversation with you.”  _

 

_ “Why not?”  _

 

_ “Myself is reserved for my Paladin.”  _

 

_ It’s quick and stinging but in prompts Lance to stomp his foot anyway, a bout of frustration that rips from his mouth like “I  _ am  _ your Paladin, damnit. Until we get Shiro back, I’m all you’ve got- so stop rejecting me.”  _

 

_ The aftermath is tense silence. Their eyes, pure blue, are narrowed on his, and suddenly he regrets it- they could very well kill him here. What would happen to his body if he died in the Lion’s realm?  _

 

_ They walk a circle around him, tail flicking against his face as a reminder of their superiority- but their mind feels curious and, for once, somewhat satiated.  _

 

_ “So he can learn.” They say, sitting on their hind legs before him.  _

 

_ “What? I mean, I’m sorry for-”  _

 

_ “Control is fickle. Use it.”  _

 

He barely has time to blink before he’s staring at the ceiling of the hangar again, Lion looming over him. His head stings. 

 

“Did- did I fall over?” 

 

He stands up, stepping away from the Lion. 

 

_ What did I learn? What about control? They completely changed after I yelled-  _

 

It comes to him. The Black Lion’s power lies in control. Until Lance took control of the conversation, Black could merely bat him away- but in his anger he put them in their place, and that prompted reaction. 

 

_ In order to react with them, I have to boss them around- like Shiro would.  _

 

The perfect Black Paladin. 

 

He leaves the hangar with a warmer feeling in his mind. 

 

\--

 

It’s a matter of predictability. That’s how Lance ends up standing in front of the door to the training deck, eyes wide shut. He knows Keith is in there, can hear the sounds of his exertion. 

 

So why is he so hesitant? So… scared? 

 

_ Keith is mean but he’s nothing to be afraid of. He thinks of us all as his family.  _

 

The past few weeks would beg to differ, Lance knows, but if he lets himself slip into any more negativity regarding Keith he doubts he can ever come up with the nerve to talk to the guy. 

 

A phantom pain in the shape of a sliding door dances on his right thigh as he pushes the door open. 

 

Keith is on the training deck alright, surrounded by four gladiators hefting bo staffs. There’s a rhythm to the way he fights them off, weaving seamlessly between his enemies and striking swift and deadly like a cobra at every moment of weakness. Lance can’t help but wonder if which one of the combatants is the actual machine. 

 

The Red Paladin jumps over an ankle blow before driving his sword into the head of the gladiator before him, dissolving it. Then he drops into a tight roll to slash at the legs of the next one, bringing his sword around his back to block another blow from the enemy before eliminating another. A kick at one’s chest gives him enough momentum to sling his blade into the ribs of the gladiator behind him, and then he’s facing the last opponent with his guard held high. The gladiator comes at him with everything it’s got, a relentless volley of what must be brutal blows- but Keith deflects every single one until he’s pushed against the edge of the arena. 

 

Lance, for one foolish moment, thinks Keith is going to lose- the Red Paladin drops his arms and slouches, giving the impression that he’s given up, so the gladiator runs for a finisher. And when it jabs its pole directly at Keith’s chest, he jumps up, stomps the end of the staff into the ground below him, runs up the length of it, and flings himself in a nifty frontflip over its back, slashing its skull open on the way down. It dissipates into light. 

 

“Training level fourteen, complete.” The automated deck intelligence says, as if unsurprised by Keith’s feat. 

 

Lance has no such apathy, lips parted in awe as he watches Keith wipe the sweat from his forehead with the hem of his shirt. The only thing he can think is  _ thank god he’s on my side.  _

 

He remembers why he came in the first place.  _ Hopefully.  _

 

“Keith?” He doesn’t mean to say it so bated and small, but it comes out that way after a display of aggression, skill, and talent like what he’d just witnessed. 

 

The boy in question whips his head around to check his intruder, eyes still tense and flinty in post-battle mode. One look at Lance, though, and a flood of different things seem to enter behind the purple irises. 

 

“Lance.” Keith says. “How long have you been standing there?” 

 

“The way you took down those gladiators was crazy. I’ve never seen something so… lethal.” Lance goes the ass-kissing route because it’s semi-helpful and semi-true. 

 

Keith just looks down at the dormant bayard in his hand. “It comes with lots of practice.” 

 

“I know,” Lance says with a bitter smile, remembering how much Keith would be on this floor in the weeks after Shiro, a whirlwind of sweat and blood and never giving up. “That makes it all the more admirable.” 

 

“What do you want?” Keith says suddenly, dropping to sit on the middle of the floor. He has a water pack and a towel next to his jacket and uses them accordingly. 

 

Unlike Pidge, Keith doesn’t indulge in Lance’s bullshit- he wants to be involved in conversation even less that she does, and he’ll do anything to cut it short, including ignoring Lance’s attempts at actually complimenting him. 

 

“Money. Fame. Hundreds of millions of followers. The chance to be America’s Next Top Model.” 

 

“I’m serious, Lance.” 

 

“So am I, Keith. Or, I guess that would’ve been serious if it was a year ago and we were still on Earth.” He walks into the room but remains standing a few feet away from the Red Paladin. 

 

“I assume Coran told you about this morning. Come to chew me out like the fake leader you are?” It’s got enough vehemence to be believable but Lance is trying to see past it. There’s something more in Keith’s eyes, and before this conversation is over Lance intends to find out what it is.

 

“No, Hunk did. And as much as I hate to make you uncomfortable, I’m not a fake leader.” 

 

Keith scoffs. “Is that right.” 

 

“I’m no leader at all.” The Red Paladin snaps his mouth shut, eyeing Lance suspiciously. “See, I’ve been doing some thinking,” Lance continues, “deep thinking. I think the reason that you hate me so much right now, and the reason you hate the fact that I’m the Black Paladin, is because you think that means I’m trying to control you. But I’m not. On paper, sure, I’m the leader of Team Voltron and I have been for a few weeks. But in reality, I can’t actually control anything you do. Shiro could, because you wanted him to. You let him tell you what to do. I may be the leader of the group, but I’m not  _ your _ leader. I don’t think I ever could be.” 

 

“What’s with the self pity, Lance? I finally got past that ego of yours?” Keith says, but Lance knows he’s hit a nerve. Just the mention of Shiro’s name has Keith’s pupils wider and his mouth more taut, waiting to snap into a frown. 

 

“I don’t know, I wasn’t feeling too great after the mission yesterday and the pillow thoughts were just flying about.” Lance finally sits on the floor, far enough away from Keith that he can leave if it gets too heated, but still close enough to read him. 

 

“Well, you’re right. You’re not Shiro, and never will be.” Keith says. It almost feels forced. 

 

“Yeah.” Lance says simply, but his eyes are locked directly onto Keith’s. 

 

Deep silence stretches between them for a while, to the point where Lance is mildly surprised that Keith hasn’t broken the eye contact. 

 

“How’s the search by the way? For Shiro.” Keith says. 

 

“Long. Arduous. Allura and Pidge scanned that data for hours and found nothing alluding to any prisons where Shiro might be.” 

 

“Assuming the Empire even has him.” 

 

“Keith…” 

 

“What, Lance.” 

 

“If I say something, can you promise you won’t get mad?” 

 

“I’m already mad.” Keith says. 

 

“Then at least promise you won’t hurt me.” 

 

“You sound like a child- fine, say it.” 

 

Lance scoots a little closer and holds out his hand, one finger extended. “Pinky promise.” 

 

“What? No, Lance, stop being so-” 

 

“Keith.” Lance says it so serious, and in a way it is- not the pinky promise, but the memory of a bruise on his leg and searing amounts of anger and pain that boil in Keith’s mind. 

 

Keith pulls his glove off with a huff and wraps his pinky around Lance’s and for the briefest moment, Lance is reminded of the Keith that existed before Shiro’s disappearance. 

 

_ My friend, Keith.  _

 

Now for the bad part. 

 

“Have you,” Lance says slowly, “have you considered the fact that Shiro could be- might be- gone? As in… dead?” 

 

The reaction Keith has is the opposite of what Lance expected- Keith’s eyes drop away, his body nearly collapses, and it suddenly hits them both just how  _ tired _ they are. 

 

“It- it hurts to. It doesn’t feel like Kerberos.” 

 

Lance takes a deep breath, scooting even closer to Keith. Their knees are almost touching.  _ Now we’re getting somewhere.  _ “What do you mean?” 

 

“When he disappeared the first time, I could feel that he was out there. I just knew he wasn’t dead. I didn’t believe the bullshit the Garrison tried to feed me. But now it doesn’t feel the same. I just don’t know… Why am I even telling you this? It’s not like there’s anything your incompetent ass can do about it.” 

 

Keith’s walls fly up again and Lance remains calm, knowing he needs another work-around. “I’m doing the best I can to bring him back, with Allura and Pidge’s help.” 

 

“If you were gone, he’d have found you by now.” Keith says, eyes on the floor. 

 

“I know. So I need to step up to the plate.” Lance says, okay with being a punching bag if it means depressurizing the dense pocket of stress, pain, fear, and anger that’s replaced Keith Kogane recently. 

 

“Someone needs to hold the team together.” Keith mumbles, referring to Shiro, but Lance sees his opening and fires his shot. 

 

“If that’s how you feel Keith, than I need to ask you another thing. Remember your pinky promise.” 

 

Keith looks up to shoot him a flat glare, but nods the go-ahead. 

 

Lance breathes, and then, “Why are you being so hard on me? I know I’m not your top pick for Black Paladin, but I am the Lions’. If it was something there was a science for, I’d listen to the argument- but it seems like you just want to hurt me. Want to hurt the team.” 

 

Keith is shameful. Lance figures that must be what it is because he’s never seen Keith look like that before. He’s got his knees drawn up to his chest and his head nearly between them, breathing hard. His shirt is still sweaty from his work out. 

 

“And yesterday,” Lance continues, “yesterday, you hurt almost six hundred people.” 

 

Keith winces. 

 

“You didn’t kill them. No one’s blaming you-” 

 

“Pidge is.” Keith says, and it’s very quiet. 

 

“I know. But it’s not all your fault. All six of us share the blame. We were all there. That’s another thing I thought about in my room, but I didn’t believe it until I heard you and Pidge talking in the hall.” 

 

Keith makes eye contact, expression unrecognizable. “Why aren’t you screaming at me? Why aren’t you acting like Pidge?” 

 

“You’re too important to this team to alienate, Keith.” Lance says. 

 

He’s comfortable. He thinks he’s doing well. Keith looks thoughtful and finally, finally unguarded so Lance barrels on like a fool. “Shiro would be disappointed in us.” 

 

When it slips out of his mouth, it takes a split-second for Keith to hear it as ‘disappointed in you’ and then he’s tensed up again, fists clenched at his sides, and heat back in his gaze. 

 

“You don’t know what he feels. You didn’t even know him.” Keith says. “You don’t know what  _ I  _ feel either.” 

 

“Keith, I didn’t mean to say it like that. I meant-” 

 

“No, Lance,” Keith says, “don’t say anything else. You wouldn’t want to disappoint Shiro.” 

 

He stands up, almost tripping over his irrational, self-defense mechanism of an anger-issue, and makes for the door. 

 

_ Fuck, _ Lance thinks,  _ I need to fix it- so close- fuck-  _

 

He springs up and races to grab Keith’s shoulder, spinning him around. “Keith, I’m just trying to fix the team and find him, not replace him, please just-” 

 

Apparently, Keith’s beyond repair, because before Lance knows it his head is knocked to the side, jaw cracked and aching, and the heat of Keith’s bare knuckles are passing away from his cheek. 

 

“Fuck this.” Keith says, and shoves Lance’s chest heavily. 

 

The Blue Paladin stumbles back, stunned by the blooming pain of Keith’s punch, and looks up just in time to see the single tear on Keith’s cheek before he gets shoved again. 

 

“You’re not a leader-” Keith says, and shoves him again. 

 

“You’re not the Black Paladin-” Keith says, and shoves him again. 

 

“You’re- not-  _ Shiro! _ ” Keith says, and Lance topples to the ground with the force of Keith’s despair. 

 

“Keith, please,” Lance starts, ignoring the metallic taste in his mouth, “just- please-” 

 

The Red Paladin storms up to Lance one more time, and pulls him forward by the collar of his shirt. “I need him back.” he says, letting go with one hand to bat his fist onto Lance’s chest. “He’s my family and I need him back.” 

 

Lance holds back coughs as Keith continues to barrage his chest with light fists. He’s never seen Keith cry- he’s never seen Keith  _ hurt,  _ at least not like this. “I know.” Is all he can say, and he feels prickling in his own eyes as more tears slide across Keith’s gaunt cheekbones. He wraps his arms around Keith’s back, trying to soothe him as he continues to beat on Lance’s chest. 

 

Now he knows what Keith needs. 

 

_ He needs a punching bag.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY, fuck, these guys keep trying to run away from me. Hopefully I'm keeping them close to character but there's nothing wrong with a little ooc magic here and there lmao  
> Follow me on tumblr dot com @CalicoThunder! Thanks for reading :DD

**Author's Note:**

> I really like writing this so there will be updates- but I'm not sure about how long the fic will actually be lmao.  
> Comments and Kudos are pretty fuckin rad, and you can find me at CalicoThunder on tumblr.  
> Thanks!!!!


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